


Game of Chess: Pawn

by Minnie_Mochi



Category: EXO (Band), GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gang Violence, Gun Kink, Homophobic Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Torture, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 120,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minnie_Mochi/pseuds/Minnie_Mochi
Summary: Jimin is the youngest son of the bosses of one of the two most feared empires in all of Asia. Hidden away inside of the family house for nineteen years, Jimin is determined to prove his worth and show that he is a valuable piece on the chessboard. While he knew was just a measly pawn, he never suspected to be given the hardest task of all.Infiltrate the other side. Unveil their secrets. Strip them of their resources. And report them back to his side. With only being a mere pawn, this proves to be harder than Jimin could ever imagine. No amount of preparation would give Jimin the skills he needed to deal with the chaos, blood shed, and emotional drainage this mission requires.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be mostly focused on Bts but Exo and Got7 are also very important to the plot line and are incredibly important characters in general that all contribute to Jimin's growth as a character and the storyline.

“There has been an increase in cases including…”

Head captain Jaebum stared at the large projector screen on the wall directly in front of him. He was leaning back in his plush, black cushioned chair, pulling and rubbing at the slowly growing traces of hair on his chin, evidence of the fact that he needed to shave much sooner than he had first thought. He listened as intently as his brain allowed him as the young rookie clicked through the presentation of a few supposedly new cases that the station were gonna divide and conquer between the teams. That’s how they got things done here at the station.

Jaebum was becoming bored even though the meeting began not even twenty minutes before. He was hearing the words Youngjae was saying but it never registered in his brain. Literally going in one ear and out the other. Usually he’d push himself to listen, even if the presentations and meetings were his least favorite part of the job. He was the captain. It was his job. He was the head of this unit, and if he wasn’t listening then how would he keep the others in check. Im Jaebum was the type of boss that no one crossed. When Jaebum walked into the room, all officers, no matter how high their ranking, straightened their postures without a second thought. Any order or demand that fell from Captain Jaebum’s lips were to be obeyed right then and there. Respecting Jaebum had just become second nature to everyone at the station.

He was well aware that he held so much power in this unit, station, and even more so in his small team. That’s why he always attempted to keep that power by never showing any weakness and maintaining an intimidating nonchalance in his demeanor. Especially when it came to his exhaustion. That seemed to be the only thing that actually got to Captain Jaebum and caused him to seem at least remotely human. 

But he was a bit lenient on himself for the time being. For the last two weeks, he had stayed at the department until the early, early hours of the morning finishing paperwork and looking over any new evidence for the several cases they were in put in charge of. Sleep was becoming harder and harder to reach for him. Any sleep he did get was more like short cat naps than actual freaking sleep. While Jaebum wished he could be the typical twenty five year old cop and go out frequently with his fellow officers every Friday night and spend his money on the unspeakable, he thought his job was way more important than partying. There were only five officers in Jaebum’s small team, but, despite being the smallest, they have always had the leading number of successful convictions and arrests. His newest officer, Choi Youngjae, was partly responsible for that. 

Jaebum may be a strict workaholic, but he didn’t deprive people of their praise for their accomplishments. Youngjae was not only a great officer when he was in action on the streets, he was also an amazing hacker. Hacking even the most protected firewalls and cracking the tightest databases. Jaebum was particularly fond of the young officer. That was why he was putting all of his energy into staying awake to listen to Youngjae’s presentation.

To keep himself awake at least, Captain Jaebum had been tapping the bottom of his shoe impatiently on the carpeted floor. He listened to the muffled pats of his hard, heeled shoe coming down on the bluish carpet that he, by the way, thought was impeccably ugly. The sound had succeeded in keeping him awake for a short while.

Soon getting bored with the constant sound of the Youngjae’s voice and the barely audible sound of his shoe coming down on the carpet, he leaned onto the table, propping his elbow on top of it, knuckles pressed against his cheek then reached his other hand out and started bringing his nails down on the polished, wooden table him and other leading officers, that were in charge of their own team, were sitting around. He enjoyed the rhythmic sound of fingernail on wood. Bringing down his index finger first, followed by his middle finger, then his ring finger, and lastly, his pinky. He did that for a while until he got lost in the satisfying sound. Ignoring the fact that other officers were only subtly shooting him annoyed looks at the pestering, repeating sound because none of them really had the balls to piss off Jaebum.

Yet again, Jaebum had gotten so lost in the sound, his eyes began to close and he began to drift off into a much needed sleep. 

That was until Youngjae uttered the names of the two most notorious Asian mafias of their times: the Lotus Syndicate and the 7 Point Syndicate. Jaebum rolled his eyes at the inconvenience but was intrigued and wide awake now nonetheless.

“We received new leads on these two mafias just two days ago,” Youngjae said, pressing the clicker once more. A few photographs of the most well known faces of the Lotus and the 7 Point materialized on the projector. Both men and women all wearing similar attire of sleek, designer suits and dark sunglasses propped high upon the bridge of their nose. That was basically the ‘uniform’ of anyone who worked for either of the mafias. 

Youngjae pressed the clicker again. He kept his eyes on all of the officers’ reactions.

The other two rookie officers at the table just stared in awe and confusion at the faces while everyone else at the extensive table glared intensely at the projector screen. Eyes wide and expectant. Youngjae placed the stack of manilla folders that he had been holding in the crease of his elbow onto the table. Everyone at the table took one and decided to follow after Captain Jaebum and assumed they would also wait to look through the folders until after the presentation ended. 

“Just in case, you’ve forgotten names and faces, these are the current bosses of the Lotus and 7 Point. First, the 7 Point.” Youngjae pointed to the picture on the far left. It was a picture of an older man walking out of some small cafe in Ilsan-Gu. He had a surprisingly muscular build with thick eyebrows and his sleek, black- slightly graying- hair neatly brushed up and back. He was staring down at his expensive watch with a heavy set frown as if he was in a hurry or late for something. Jaebum found it hard to believe that this man was in his late forties, supposedly. He looked older than that. Must’ve been the stress that made him look ten years older. Next to him was a woman that was slightly shorter than him, her light brown hair stopping just below her shoulder. Those were the only traits they were able to see. Because of the angle at which the picture was taken, her face wasn't able to be seen. It never was. 

To be technical, there were several photographs of the man and his ‘wife’, but nothing more than her height, hair, and, partially, her attire were able to be seen or determined. It was as if the man knew exactly what angle the photographs were being taken and hid the woman perfectly behind him. The man wore a sophisticated, black suit, black tinted shades over his eyes, and a few big, flashy, expensive rings on a few of his fingers.

The man’s posture, appearance, and entire demeanor exuded so much wealth, so much respect, and extreme power. Wealth and respect weren’t even an eighth of what the 7 Point Syndicate possessed that made them so powerful.

Power was determined by knowledge, connections, appearance, alongside wealth and respect as well as so much more that Jaebum didn’t even want to think about. The more he thought about the 7 Point’s power, he understood why the police force called them an empire instead of just a mafia. 

And that honestly scared the hell out of him. Because there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.

“This is Kim Bon-Hwa. He is the head of the 7 Point. The woman behind him is presumed to be his wife but we do not have a name or face for her just yet.” Youngjae raised his clicker again and used it to point the red dot to the rest of the pictures of different men and women associated with Bon-Hwa. While they weren’t as well known as the bosses, Jaebum knew very well who each of the people were because of how much time he has spent on cases in the past when he was just a rookie. One of his lifetime goals as a cop was to bring down both of these empires.

“The rest of these people are employees that are very high in ranks of the 7 Point Syndicate. They are in charge of things like prolific drug trafficking, prostitution and sex trafficking, extortion, assassinations, and other types of organized crime. There's more about these people in the files in the manilla folders.” 

The captain watched with a new, profound interest as Youngjae pressed the clicker again. Jaebum gazed at Youngjae with an immense amount of pride and delight at the young officer’s exemplary work. He also prided himself on doing such a great job training this rookie. 

However, Jaebum’s features and entire body immediately tensed at the sight of the leader of the Lotus Syndicate when Youngjae pressed the clicker. He hoped no one noticed the quick break in his hard exterior. 

But Youngjae did. He noticed the gesture but didn't think much of it. The movement was very much subtle and hadn’t drawn the attention of any other officers at the table. Youngjae was the only one who noticed. He was well aware of his boss’ unfortunate connection to the Lotus Syndicate.

“Now this is the leader of the Lotus,” Youngjae said. "Park Kang Dae.” Kang Dae actually looked pretty young and rather handsome to be in his late forties and had a smaller build than Bon-Hwa. His appearance wasn’t as intimidating upon first glance like Bon Hwa’s. Kang-Dae looked a lot more approachable at first glance than Bon-Hwa did. Kang-Dae was wearing a sleek, designer suit, but it was a milky white with a complimenting black tie. No shades on and no flashy rings. That was a big difference between the two empires. While the 7 Point liked to show off their power through their wealth, the Lotus chose not to. The members of the Lotus Syndicate did _ just  _ enough to let everyone know that they had respect, power, money, and more. While they didn’t  _ look  _ intimidating, they most definitely were. That’s what most feared about them. The suspicion. The anticipation. The idea of  _ not knowing.  _ So when you disrespected them, you had no idea what they would do or how they’d go about doing so. You just knew they would do _ something _ . They were coming. The people that worked with the Lotus wore expensive suits that drew  _ just  _ enough attention and walked around with that arrogant grin on their faces as if they had the entire world right there in their hands and there was nothing anyone could do about it. 

And there wasn’t.

The Lotus Syndicate was known for being a bit more calm and calculated with their crimes. The Lotus had a thing for fear. For psychological torture. Preferring to fuck someone up mentally and emotionally first before harming them physically. Unlike the 7 Point. The 7 Point syndicate was known for their “shoot first, think later,” mentality and didn’t hesitate to harm someone without a second thought. 

Both were feared just as equally despite that difference. 

While there was that difference between the two, there was an even smaller but all the more disturbing difference between the photographs displayed side by side on the projector: the position of their wives. Bon-Hwa’s wife was always hidden behind him. That’s why there was no clear pictures of the woman and therefore no way to identify her. But Kang-Dae’s wife, Byun Asami, was different. 

By her sly, arrogant smirk and her piercing eyes hidden behind those thick, tinted shades, everyone knew that Byun Asami had just as much power and respect as her husband. Asami wore an identical white suit with high heels, standing at the same height as her husband. The photograph showed them both walking out of one of the most popular hotels in Seoul sharing a glance as they both laughed. Their fingers tightly intertwined in a tight, loving hold. They looked like a happy couple on a honeymoon instead of a couple conducting illegal deals and running an entire empire.

Youngjae pointed the laser to other off guard pictures of other men and women. Each picture consisted of the person with their hand pressed to their ear, pushing their ear piece further in or the person looking off into the distance at both something or nothing in particular. Just keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Jaebum assumed that that was just what you had to do when you were a part of the mafia. An empire specifically. “Same as before, these are men and women that are high within the ranks of the Lotus. The Lotus Syndicate is also involved in illegal activity such as drug trafficking, importing and exporting illegal guns and explosives, prostitution, extortion and more. While they own several high profile strip clubs around the world, the Lotus has  _ no _ ties whatsoever with sex trafficking which isn’t really shocking.”

“There’s a possibility that Asami could be against sex trafficking. She is a woman and and probably won’t allow sex slavery. Strip clubs are more voluntary instead of forceful,” one of the rookies commented.

“Correct. But as you will see in the manilla folders, we have reason to believe Asami was also a sex slave from the age of sixteen until she met Kang-Dae at the age of twenty one,” Youngjae added. Jaebum grunted in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Now to the important part and the main reason I requested this meeting between just these teams. As you might already know, their kids are the supposed heir of the two. There weren't many pictures of them until very recently. This can only mean one thing. The two heirs must be in some sort of training, per say. Learning all of the things they need to know to be a valuable piece on the gameboard.” 

Jaebum furrowed his eyebrows at the new information. And was admittedly a bit intimidated by the way Youngjae was presenting it. But Jaebum knew it was true: the new heirs could make it either harder or easier for the police to find some evidence on them. 

The kids were new to the game that the two empires played. They were even more prone to making mistakes. While they still had their parents there to cover up any of their tracks, there was always a possibility that the parents could also make a mistake while attempting to teach their heir. However, these children were far from stupid being that they literally grew up in that very environment. They were bound to be different from their parents. Run things differently. Hire different people. Specifically young, new, fresh employees that will grow along with the empire and the heirs themselves. All police forces that were in charge of the keeping track of both mafias would possibly have to scrap all of their older observations because someone new will soon be in charge. 

Jaebum sighed heavily in exasperation at the thought.

“For the last few years, the Lotus and the 7 Point have avoided any direct interactions and have been keeping to themselves. Making calculated moves that won’t disturb the work of the other empire. While this is good in the sense of stopping mass numbers of killings out of rage, this makes things a lot less obvious for us. Meaning  _ no evidence.”  _

Youngjae was right, yet again. The 7 Point and the Lotus have always had many differences but they were never archenemies. More like friendly competitors these days. Bon Hwa and Kang Dae had agreed that they wouldn’t intermingle at all and that both empires would be better off without conflict. That was good for the citizens of Korea, Japan, China and wherever else the empires had huge connections. But it was straight up frustrating for the police. The more calculated and precise the mafia bosses were to avoid each other, the less likely they were to slip up and leave behind even just a piece of evidence.

Jaebum sighed and interrupted Youngjae with a question that was laced with something akin to frustration and confusion. “What new information do you have about them?”

“Well we have reason to believe that KangDae and possibly BonHwa will be in Japan for about a week to do business. I know I am a rookie and my opinion might not matter as much. But I was hoping that we could contact the police forces in Japan and update them about this news. Hopefully they gather some information that we can use,” Youngjae supplied in a pleading tone. He usually did when he was talking about any suggestions he had or some new information that he had found. That was Youngjae’s weakness: lack of confidence. 

Jaebum nodded once more, actually liking the idea. “I think it is a pretty good idea, Youngjae. When are they expected to go to Japan?”

Youngjae gave a relieved sigh and a slight smile. “Next week, in fact,” he said. “However, remember. This is a game for them. Like chess. Lately no moves have been made to get rid of opposing pieces. The heirs right now are the kings. The most significant piece that can only go so far. That all the other pieces are protecting. Checkmate. And the entire game is through and one side comes crashing down.” The room went silent. All of the top officers including Jaebum couldn’t find the words to say in response to that. Jaebum decided in that moment that he had a newfound respect for the three rookies in the room with them with confident, straight faces.. If he were one of the rookies right now, he would have taken a quick ‘bathroom break,’ risking a quick scolding from his boss. This was incredibly too tense for a new officer to stomach all at once. Jaebum had been in the force since he graduated high school seven years ago. Yet he even felt his heartbeat fluctuate at the rookie’s words.

Youngjae looked around the table once more, silently asking if someone had any questions. When no one answered, Youngjae clicked the small remote once more. The screen went black, meaning that the forty minute presentation was finally over. Everyone quickly rose from the their chair, wanting to return to whatever tasks they were doing before they attended this long meeting called by the rookies.

“Thank you for giving me your time to reiterate this case. Look through your manilla folders please. Also make sure you closely look at the profiles, please,” Youngjae pleaded yet again. Jaebum hated how much Youngjae used the word ‘please.’ Jaebum hated a pleading, begging, and seemingly weak cop, but he could understand. Youngjae was a rookie in front of cops that probably have been in the force longer than he had been alive. 

Jaebum remembers being in his place before when he was an 18 years old and fresh out of high school. While everyone else was preparing themselves to go college, he was preparing himself to go into the police academy. But he wasn’t worried for Youngjae. He saw a lot of himself within him.

Jaebum shot Youngjae an attempt at a reassuring smile as he witnessed Youngjae’s entire exterior just fall apart. He was not that confident officer he was a just a minute ago. Standing in front of everyone presenting his case. He was now standing off to the side of the door, bowing deeply at every officer that left the meeting room with their manilla folders tucked under their arm or clutched weakly in their hands. Not even acknowledging Youngjae. Jaebum was the last one to leave, excluding Youngjae. As he picked up the manilla folder and made is way towards the door, Youngjae’s soft voice sounded.

“Before I leave for the night, can I stop by your office. There is something important I want to talk about with you,” Youngjae said softly. When Jaebum directed his dejected gaze towards the rookie, Youngjae struggled to maintain his, already wavering, confident composure.

“Of course,” Jaebum said, laughing a bit at Youngjae’s expression. The shock on Youngjae’s face at hearing Jaebum laugh definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed by the older. Jaebum had grasped the doorknob and proceeded to open it. “Youngjae,” Jaebum said, stopping in his path to speak. 

“Yes?”

“Calm down. Okay? You’re doing very, very well,” Jaebum said, looking over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of Youngjae looking down at the ground, manilla folder held tightly within his fingers. He watched Youngjae nervously tug his bottom lip between his white set of teeth. Watched his broad chest expand and deflate from his extremely deep breath to calm himself.

“Yeah?” Youngjae muttered, letting his gaze travel up Jaebum’s body to meet his boss’ intense gaze. Youngjae couldn’t deny the fact that he’s always loved praise.

“Yes… I’ll see you in a bit,” Jaebum smiled before proceeding to his office. 

  


Captain Jaebum was in his office lounging back in his chair as he clicked and typed away at his desktop computer. He closed the last electronic file after sending it to the printer for him to pick up from the printer in the lounge before he left for the night. Left for the morning was a better way to put it since he didn’t leave at nine o’clock like he was supposed to. He usually stayed until one or two o’clock in the morning. 

He moved all of the stray, insignificant papers out of his way and grabbed for the manilla folder Youngjae had given that he had set aside earlier. Jaebum pressed the home button of his phone and checked the time and for any important emails. It was 8:43 and no significant emails. Just ones he had been included in between the leading officers. 

With a sigh, he opened the manilla folder. He slid one of the two stacks of papers, each kept together by a single paper clip, out of the folder. The captain took note of how thick the stack actually was, then groaned loudly. This was the last thing he had wanted to be doing right now. While he could go for some sleep, he would much rather just relax right now. Maybe he could be a little lenient on himself and actually leave at 9 o’clock today. Maybe even go out for a drink. But with who?

Jaebum had shrugged his shoulders and reluctantly stood from his comfortable chair and made his way over to the coffee machine in the corner of his room. This would be his fourth cup of coffee today. Luckily, he had a very convenient coffee maker that didn’t take all of the traditional hassel. 

It wasn’t long before he was sitting back at his desk, sipping leisurely at his coffee. He reached for the stack of papers once again. There was a yellow sticky note on the first stack of papers, labeled “7 Point Syndicate.” Jaebum carefully removed the note and placed it on the surface of his desk, in front of his computer. He leaned back within his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk to get as comfortable as he possibly could. He knew these profiles would take at least two hours to read through, process, and make some important notes. So he might as well get comfortable.

Just as he had began reading, someone had began knocking heavily on his door. He grimaced and sighed. “Come in,” Jaebum said loudly, a hint of irritation weaved into his tone. 

It was Youngjae who peeked his head in the door. “Can I come in, sir?”

Jaebum frowned at being called ‘sir.’ “I said don’t call me that, Youngjae,” he warned as he gestured for the rookie to come in. Youngjae apologized with a deep bow and closed the door softly behind him.

“I hope I am not interrupting,” Youngjae smiled apprehensively. Even though he was, Jaebum didn’t open his mouth to tell him that. “But I came to talk to you about the heirs in particular.” Jaebum just nodded his head in response, leaning up in his chair and taking his feet down from the desk, urging him to continue. “Grab that chair and bring it over here. Let’s talk then.” Jaebum didn’t always want to look annoyed and aloof. He just couldn’t help the intimidation that just radiated off of him no matter what. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted Youngjae to feel like he could relax around him. But Jaebum could tell that he was already doing a bad job judging by the fact that Youngjae was practically trembling as he followed the instructions Jaebum gave him.

Youngjae set the chair down and proceeded to sit. Youngjae cleared his throat and attempted to show some nonchalance and confidence to match his boss’ demeanor. He reached for the manilla folder and pulled out the other stack of papers that was also labeled with a sticky note saying “The Lotus Syndicate.” The rookie searched through the papers and quickly found the two profiles he was looking for. Placing them onto the desk next to each other .“Um… Mr. Jaebum,” he said more like a question than a statement. 

“Just Jaebum or Hyung, Youngjae,” the older of the two sighed. The latter gulped with so much difficulty that he was sure that Jaebum heard. He then moved his long bangs to the side, making a mental note to get his bangs trimmed tomorrow. “Okay. Well… Jaebum-Hyung, may I see those papers for a second,” Youngjae asked, gesturing at the stack of papers Jaebum was still holding from when he suddenly interrupted.. 

Jaebum hummed and handed them over. Within a few seconds of glancing through the stack, the rookie pulled out two more profiles and set them directly next to the other two. Jaebum pulled his rolling chair closer to Youngjae and to the desk. He heard Youngjae’s breath catch in his throat and Jaebum frowned with concern but didn’t vocalize those concerns. Jaebum wondered if he was  _ that  _ intimidating.

“This is the heir of the Lotus Syndicate,” Youngjae started, pointing at the profile to the far left of the four. He tapped his slightly chubby finger atop the photograph at the top left of that profile in particular. The boy looked as if he had just turned twenty. Hair, dark brown and messy. Prominent nose. Lips tilted up in a slight, arrogant smirk. Similar to Asami’s. “His name is Kim Jongin. He goes by Kai sometimes. He is the oldest son of the Kang-Dae and Asami, but he was adopted. Looking at the rest of the profile, it seems like he was adopted at nine because his parents were murdered a year before when he was eight. He was reported missing but they found out that he lived on the streets for about a year because he didn’t want to be put into foster care. It looks like Asami took a liking to him after watching him sweet talk and manipulate a cashier before he stole hundreds of dollars from the cash register. Asami persuaded Kang-Dae to adopt the boy and they lived happily ever after I guess.”

Youngjae glanced over at Jaebum for a second to ensure he was taking in all of the information. If Jaebum’s pinched eyebrows, squinted eyes, and red, bruised bottom lip from him chewing on it so much was anything to go by, Youngjae was 100% sure that his boss was listening and holding onto every word. He allowed himself to relax a little and flipped the paper over. “These photographs on the back are just other pictures we have of the boy as a child.”

Jaebum didn’t know what to feel while looking at the pictures of the innocent child Jongin used to be. Even the pictures that Asami, KangDae and Jongin had taken together had seemed so innocent. Yet, Kim Jongin had changed so much while being a part of the family. Even though he was already a great sweet-talker in his childhood, Jongin looked much more ruthless and manipulative after all the years he spent being raised by mafia bosses. The boy was as ruthless as the come at such as young age. Especially with his words. He was attractive and it was almost guaranteed that he could use his words and looks to get just about anything that he wanted. Just words. Or just a simple look. Even a simple, sly smile.

Jaebum flipped the paper over once again and analyzed at the present picture of Jongin. That smirk was all too familiar. Asami had the exact same smirk. That arrogant, bratty, superior smirk.

Youngjae moved on to the next profile. “This is their second oldest son, Byun Baekhyun. However, he wasn’t adopted. When Asami and KangDae adopted Jongin, Baekhyun was seven years old. Some officers predicted that Kai and Baekhyun have had a rivalry for quite some time because Jongin was chosen to be the official heir and not Baekhyun. But it isn’t exactly confirmed just yet. For all we know, they could be perfectly fine with the arrangement.”

Youngjae had stopped talking and allowed Jaebum some time to think some more. There was an indescribable silence that followed. Then Jaebum grunted roughly and ran a hand through his messy, disheveled hair yet again. “If you’re overwhelmed… then we could stop here,” Youngjae suggested, about to stand from his chair. 

“No,” Jaebum answered quickly. “We can continue. Just needed some time to take it all in. I work on several different cases at a time, you know,” he croaked, scratching roughly at his head and letting his hand fall carelessly back to the armrest of the chair.

“Well, if you insist.” Youngjae situated himself once again in the chair and pointed his finger at the third profile laid out on the desk. Not wasting any more time. “This is the heir to the 7 Point Syndicate, Kim Namjoon. Oldest of the four children BonHwa has.” Jaebum had to admit that this Kim Namjoon exuded the confidence of a leader. From the power that just naturally oozed from his demeanor, anyone would mistake Namjoon as the current boss instead of a heir. No one expected anything less from BonHwa’s children.

“The files say that BonHwa was incredibly hard on Namjoon in particular. He only accepted the best from him. Whatever Namjoon did, whether it be grades, shooting, even a sport Namjoon wanted to play, BonHwa wanted perfection. Being raised in that type of environment, you can easily guess why he seeks so much dominance and retribution after being mistreated and controlled his entire life.”

Youngjae took a deep breath, allowing a brief period of silence so he wasn’t literally burying his boss in new information, before he directed his attention to the last profile. 

“This is the second oldest son. Min Yoongi. This boy honestly has had the most fucked up childhood you could imagine. His parents died when he was just a baby. He was raised by his uncle who was very abusive. There are multiple reports of physical, verbal, and emotional abuse made by Yoongi himself to the police but nothing ever came after that. Which is probably why he hates the authorities so fucking much. Continuously leaving the little boy there with no help. Being abused so much is possibly why he was so interested in fire and torture and showed psychopathic and sociopathic tendencies at just the age of eleven. It says here that when he was thirteen, Yoongi was supposedly kidnapped and the kidnapper shot the uncle in the head and left without a trace. But no one knows if this story is true because years later, the boy is in his early twenties and seems to be perfectly fine and in perfect health after being raised by BonHwa.”

“What about the last two children?”

“We don’t have much information on them. Just possible identification. Jeon Jungkook or Kim Taehyung. They both are reported to be close to the older sons. The other child is a girl but we have nothing on her just yet.” Youngjae nodded, stretching his legs and arms after sitting still for so long.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about then?” Jaebum inquired as Youngjae finished and began gathering all of the profiles after one last look at the four of them.

“Well I have an idea. It might not be the best idea but it’s the best I’ve got,” Youngjae said tensing up and looking away towards the door for no reason. This wasn’t something that surprised Jaebum anymore. Youngjae always got shy when he wanted to share any ideas that were his own. He would demurely look down at his chubby fingers and a dark tint of pink would color he his cheeks and even the tip of his nose. While Jaebum wasn’t surprised by the act and he admittedly thought it was quite endearing, he hoped Youngjae would sooner rather than later gain some confidence. A lot of it. 

“I was thinking that after getting more information or any at all when they go to Japan, we could somehow stop them from trusting the other so much. Even just a little slip up that will stop them from being so calculated.”

Jaebum frowned heavily. “And risk innocent people’s lives in the process?”

“”No!” Youngjae corrected him quickly. “Not anger them but just cause them to question the other empire. You see?” Youngjae could feel the hesitance in Jaebum’s expression. He dropped his head a little in disappointment.

“Just give me some time to think about it,” Jaebum sighed. That made Youngjae smile as if he had received a shower of praise. “Thank you, Jaebum,” he breathed before clearing his throat loudly. Jaebum looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. Youngjae almost melted at the sight of Jaebum’s swollen, red eyes from his ongoing fight with exhaustion. He could tell that the older was so very tired and his grip on life- and consciousness- was slowly slipping. 

So he bit his lip and exhaled softly. “Jaebum, come back to my apartment with me. I can help you actually get some sleep,” Youngjae said. Still looking intensely at Jaebum, looking for his approval. His reassurement. 

Jaebum on the other hand was staring at the desk. His hands. Anything that wasn’t Youngjae’s suggestive glare. He was incredibly taken aback by Youngjae’s sudden request. “How will you help?” Jaebum said in a hushed tone.

“Well,” Youngjae said lowering his voice to match Jaebum’s volume. “I make really good tea that helps me relax and go to sleep. My mom used to make it when I was a child and had a really bad case of insomnia every once in a while.” Youngjae was now the relaxed and confident one in the situation and Jaebum was acting rather demurely. “It was the only thing that worked when I couldn’t sleep because of stress. So when I was stressing about the police academy and getting accepted, she finally taught me how to make it… Let me share it with you.” Youngjae lowered his voice to a mere whisper at the end of his confession. 

Jaebum cleared his throat for what seemed like the third time. He even swallowed thickly to quench the rising heat in his body that he hasn’t felt for some years now. The firey and slightly unbearable heat in his core seemed only to rage more intensely at the fact that Youngjae was not only his rookie but also a male. But he still was apprehensive.

Youngjae could sense Jaebum struggling to make a decision so he continued his act of persuasion. “Don’t resist, Jaebum. Just say yes and let me help you out,” he pleaded in a whisper, giving one of the, honest to God, cutest yet most prurient smiles Jaebum had ever seen in his life. His eyes disappeared behind that smile in a way so pure. Yet, his bangs fell in his face and over his left eye once again (even though he had moved them from his face probably a hundred times) in a way that was so lewd, luring, and tempting.

How could he say no? Who was he to say no? This was an entirely new side of Youngjae sitting next to him. He was completely different. Jaebum could relate because he didn’t feel like Unit Captain Im Jaebum right now. He felt like Jaebum that really fucking wanted to go home with the twenty one year old sitting in that chair, smirking at him. So he made a decision.

Jaebum quickly picked up his phone, almost dropping in from his urgency, and pressed the home button to check the time. 

9:32 

“Let’s go then. I hope it’s good.”

  
  


By the time Jaebum had looked at the clock again, it was ten minutes before midnight. Jaebum hadn’t known he was so smitten with the boy until just a little pout on Youngjae’s lips when he asked Jaebum to stay the night was all it took for Jaebum to give in. 

That’s how he got here. Lying in Youngjae’s queen sized bed in oversized pajamas the rookie had let him borrow. And Youngjae lying shirtless next to him in a dead sleep. His tanned skin contrasting perfectly with the rich purple of the bed sheets and comforter, that Jaebum found out was Youngjae’s favorite color. Jaebum took time to admire Youngjae’s broad shoulders and firm torso. That’s all he had allowed himself to do that night.

He sighed. 

The tea worked wonders if Jaebum was being honest. He would also be in a fast, deep sleep if he wasn’t forcing himself to stay awake and think. It was like he couldn’t turn off his mind and stop his thoughts from constantly racing. The last three hours had been filled with tension. Sexual tension, maybe. Maybe passion. The stares. The light touches. The breathy laughs. The moments when they sat in a comfortable silence speaking a thousand words without ever opening their mouths. Whatever, it was. He decided he enjoyed it.

Jaebum enjoyed his short break from being a cop. From the cases he had to take care of. From thinking about the two empires. Now he was going to enjoy a nice break from life by closing his eyes and drifting off into a much needed deep sleep like the man next to him. 

  



	2. For The Love Of Family

The longer Jimin stayed and walked around the large family penthouse, the more Jimin wanted to punch every grand and stupidly exquisite decoration embellishing every room. The stupid paintings on the wall. The ugly vases. The dumb lotuses in those vases. Even the pictures of him standing between his brothers. Baekhyun to the right, Jongin to the left. Everything. The place was beginning to feel more like a jail cell rather than the home he grew up in. It was rare that Jimin was ever allowed to leave the house. He guessed he understood why that was the case, even if he never received a direct explanation as to why his two older brothers could leave the house and he couldn’t. He was the third and youngest son of one of the two biggest empires in South Korea. Maybe his parents wanted to guarantee his safety. 

For a long time, he didn’t mind the fact that he never left the house because he had Baekhyun and Jongin there to keep him company. Anything one of them did, all of them did. But ever since the older two had began accompanying their parents to meetings and ‘consulting’ with their new assistants, Jimin had been left in the house alone a lot more frequently. While Jimin never wished to be involved in the mafia like his brothers, he wanted to have a life outside of the penthouse. 

However, their mom and dad hadn’t forgotten about him. They had spent thousands of dollars on new hobbies that they hoped could provide Jimin with even just a little comfort to fill the hole his parents knew he was feeling in his chest without his brothers. Easels, drawing pencils, charcoal, and paint for Jimin to indulge in art. A 5 star chef to teach Jimin how to cook. Musical instruments from the violin to the harp for him to play. Video games. Cameras. Even language books to help him learn new languages. He was fluent in five languages already and currently focused on Thai. While it was fun for Jimin at the time, all of the hobbies quickly bored him or he easily made the hobbies his new expertise, and he was left feeling even worse than he did before. The only thing that did cause him mild enjoyment was his laptop.

Jimin was a self proclaimed, self taught computer wiz. His fingers flew across the keyboard with confidence and celerity the same way they do when he plays the piano. Gaining the same satisfaction after cracking security walls or corrupting government databases that he would from perfectly playing “Canon in D” by Pachelbel or, his favorite piece, “Kiss the Rain” by Yiruma. That was the only thing Jimin seemed to love and enjoy. But he would still pick being with his family over sitting alone in his huge room tapping away at his piano or laptop. 

 

Jimin was sitting up on his bed, half asleep and pissed off after being awaken by a persistent but dull thudding against his wall. He had been able to ignore the banging sound until it became even more erratic and a series of staccato, breathy moans followed. Suddenly, Jimin regretted begging his brothers to sleep in the rooms closest to his. Now that he noticed the moans, it was like they wouldn’t go away. Jimin was 100% sure that it was Jongin’s moans that he was hearing through the stupid thin walls. He knew his brothers well enough to know when they were hiding something. So after some predictions Jimin made off of Jongin’s actions with Do Kyungsoo, he knew that they had some type of intimate, most likely sexual, relationship going on. Jongin was doing relatively well at hiding the relationship from their parents but didn’t seem to bother hiding the relationship from Baekhyun and him judging by the fact that discreteness and being quiet seemed to be the last thing on Jongin and Kyungsoo’s minds.

Jimin let out a loud groan and sat up in his bed with a deep grimace and his eyes still low and heavy from sleeping. 

“I’m guessing you were disturbed by Jongin and Kyungsoo too, huh?” Jimin slowly looked towards his door and watched Baekhyun stroll to his bedside in baggy pajamas. His blond hair thrown about all over his head, eyes still low with exhaustion like Jimin’s, and his round spectacles low on the bridge of his nose as if he had just randomly put them on after dragging himself out of bed. 

“Mhm, yeah,” Jimin said groggily. “I totally support the relationship and all that shit, but do they have to be so fucking loud. Aren’t mama and daddy still here?”

Baekhyun shook his head and carelessly laid himself across the bottom of Jimin’s king sized bed and closed his eyes again. “They left early this morning. So I guess Jongin decided it was a great time to invite his assistant over for some early morning, forbidden sex. Must be exciting,” Baekhyun answered, his face pressed into the soft comforter and voice muffled. The banging had become less erratic and sudden and more slow and unrhythmic. They both frowned.

Jimin had been in the living room when Jongin and Baekhyun received the lecture from their parents about not bringing personal feelings into their work. That included avoiding intimate relationships with your closest workers. That was one of the reasons the assistants were men and not women but it worked well in Jongin’s favor anyway, who ‘didn’t have a problem with being with females but liked his men from time to time.’ 

Baekhyun was the same way but much more discreet about it. Jimin always acted like he didn’t see the suggestive glances that Baekhyun and his assistant, Chanyeol, shared frequently or hear the dirty conversations they would have in hushed voices when they were alone. Jimin was good at acting and faking it, but he just couldn’t fake like he wasn’t bothered by Jongin’s actions at the moment. 

This isn’t how Jimin wanted to wake up on his nineteenth birthday. He looked down at Baekhyun once more whose breathing had evened out once again and his back rose and fell steadily. He had fell asleep again.

The thuds had soon come to a complete stop, and Jimin had curled up in his sheets and began drifting off to sleep again until he heard soft footsteps approaching him. He still heard the deep breathing of Baekhyun at the foot of his bed. His instinct told him to jump up and fight. The consequence of being trained by his father, KangDae. But his conscience was telling him to wait it out a little longer; gain a little more info about the situation before acting. The consequence of being raised by his mother, Asami. 

He hadn’t needed to act, however, because his nickname had began softly falling from familiar lips and into the air. The light blocking curtains were drawn back a bit letting in some sunlight. “Jiminie. Wake up,” Jongin laughed as he tapped Jimin’s arm. 

Jimin rolled onto his back and looked up at his older brother who was smiling down at him in just a dark blue, silk robe. The loosely tied robe allowed the several red marks on his neck and shoulders that were darkening by the minute to be seen clearly. Jongin seemed to wear them proudly along with his freshly swollen, bitten pink lips. 

He had slowly bent down and pulled the silk, soft comforter up and over the lower half of Jimin’s face. Jimin was confused at first until he heard another voice call out “Happy Birthday” to him from over by his window. It was Kyungsoo, who had opened the black floor length curtains and was looking out of the window at the view before turning to Jimin with an innocent, bright smile. That was rare. Kyungsoo usually wore a bored expression that made him look a bit more evil and malicious than bored. He was dressed in black slacks and a plain white dress shirt, but he was far from being even close to the professional, intimidating mafia worker that he usually was. Both his pants and shirt were beyond wrinkled. The expensive shirt only buttoned up halfway. Jimin had to just roll his eyes at Kyungsoo’s hair for he didn’t even have the words to describe the how unkempt his hair was from his and Jongin’s previous escapades. Despite his current appearance, the man had seemed to be literally glowing this morning.

“Thank you,” Jimin yawned, keeping the covers over the lower half of his face. No one other than his brothers and parents were allowed to see his full face. That rule was strictly reinforced for as long as he could remember. Most parents stressed the fact that their children should never talk to strangers. Or to scream for help if someone is trying to do some serious damage. But for Jimin, it was stressed again and again that he was not to let anyone see his full face. 

Again, Jimin didn’t know the reason behind his parents’ command, but followed it anyway. “And thank you for waking us up with your loud fucking.. I hope it was fantastic, Hyung,” Baekhyun groaned sarcastically after waking up from his sleep once again. 

Jongin chuckled in embarrassment, but Kyungsoo mumbled a blunt “it was quite wonderful actually, thank you for your concern.” Despite not being able to see his full face, the way Jimin’s eyes disappeared and turned into small crescents let Kyungsoo know he was smiling. Baekhyun just growled. “Is your ass still in tact, Jongin? That banging was quite intense,” Baekhyun continued with obvious bluntness laced in his voice too. Jimin had began giggling louder. 

“Don’t make me expose you, Baek,” Jongin warned. Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows in mock curiosity only succeeding in making Baekhyun lose most of the color in his face, going completely pale. 

“I would love to hear about that,” Kyungsoo teased. There was no doubt that Jongin would expose all of his brother’s secrets in just a second. Jimin would never, but Jongin most definitely would. Baekhyun flicked them both off. 

“I should get going before your parents return,” Kyungsoo sighed, suddenly buttoning up the rest of the buttons of his shirt. Jimin waved him a quick goodbye and watched as he made his way towards the door, his grey snakeskin shoes making loud thuds as he walked across the polished hardwood floors of Jimin’s room. He hesitated when he passed Jongin. Possibly pondering on the thought of kissing him or even hugging him. Showing any type of acknowledgement of the activities indulged in that morning. Jongin looked as if he was wondering the same thing but also remembering the conversation with his father and mother.

In the end, Kyungsoo had just left, muttering a goodbye to Jongin before he closed Jimin’s bedroom door behind him. If Jongin was disappointed, he didn’t show it and redirected his attention to his younger brothers. 

“So, we don’t have much shit to do today but we have a plane to catch at 3. We can spend the morning with you, if you want,” Jongin suggested. Baekhyun had sat up completely and began to say something but was interrupted by his need to stretch but didn’t say anything further. Trying to join the conversation but too tired to contribute any suggestions. Jimin let the cover fall from his face and slowly got out of his bed.

“Right, you’re leaving for Japan today and I’m gonna be alone here,” Jimin sighed, walking over to the drawn curtains and sliding the transparent door open to go out onto the balcony. The penthouse overlooked the streets of Seoul, and Jimin enjoyed watching the people and cars far on the ground meander across the streets. Enjoyed the feeling of wind flowing through his silver hair. Even though he would never tell them directly, he mostly enjoyed having his brothers by his side. 

His brothers had followed him out onto the balcony and came out to lean onto the railing on either side of him. 

Baekhyun on his right.

Jongin on his left. 

Both pressed against him. 

Jongin had let out a quiet hiss of pain, probably still sore from sex, when propping his elbows on the railing, but Baekhyun and Jimin hadn’t said anything about it. They sat in silence together until a feminine voice called out from inside his room. “Jimin! Happy Birthday!” 

Jimin raised an eyebrow but rushed back inside to his parents who were sitting on his bed, hands intertwined. His father was a little on the short side for a mafia boss. He was a very well spoken man with a prim yet intimidating attitude that exuded superiority in a sense. Their mother was much similar. Yes, their mom was a woman and acted as such, but she was a strong, threatening woman. What she lacked in physical strength, she made up for in her intelligence and mental genius. They were the perfect team with three boys that were possessed both of the parents qualities and then some. 

“Happy birthday, my boy,” his father said, standing to pat him on the back. Jimin muttered his thanks with a smile, expecting a quiet scolding about going outside without his mask on. Which he did, in fact, receive. 

“Did you tell him?” His mother smiled towards Jongin and Baekhyun, expectantly, who both nodded. “Good, I want KangDae to tell him.”

Jimin caught on to the conversation and noticed they were referring to him. 

“Tell me what? Daddy?” Jimin questioned. His father straightened out his waistcoat and pulled his suit jacket tighter around his torso as if he was about to present some speech to someone important. 

“You know we are going to Japan today, correct?” His father said looking down into Jimin’s eyes. Watching the way they tilted down at the corners as he pouted at being reminded once again that he would be alone for a week. “We decided that you can come with us. I can get a couple of my men to take you out to a few places during any free time we might have.”

Jimin’s eyes had shined bright at the idea of not only leaving the penthouse but also going all the way to Japan. The nineteen year old wrapped himself around his father’s muscular but slightly lean body. “Unfortunately, we will need you to wear one of your gas masks,” his father said. “And you will have to accompany us to meetings.”

“Hopefully nothing too bad pops off,” Jongin commented. Baekhyun nodded in agreement. 

“That’s okay,” Jimin reassured. Jimin no longer minded wearing his gas mask since he had wore it ever since he was a young boy. He often preferred his half face gas mask in lieu of the full face one because he could see clearly. He hated how foggy the lens of the full face gas mask would get but he endured it. The gas mask seemed a bit extreme just to cover his face, Jimin had to admit. But his mother believed that even though it would create suspicion and draw unnecessary attention, the respirator allowed Jimin to breathe easily and keep his identity a secret when he did manage to leave the house. Which was never.

Jimin had come to feel protected when he was wearing it. Even just standing out on the balcony without it on would usually cause him some anxiety. He didn’t need to wear it when he brothers were around though. They made him feel protected. Safe. 

Powerful. 

Jongin and Baekhyun smiled a bit at Jimin’s excitement. “Jimin. Pack a bag,” their dad demanded, not rude but direct, giving Jimin one more firm pat on the back and making his way towards the door.

“Kai. Baek. Help your brother,” their mother demanded, following in her husband’s steps and leaving the room. Asami and KangDae were only soft when it came to Jimin. Jongin and Baekhyun didn’t receive the reassuring smiles and pats on the back. They received demands and commands that were meant to be followed on the spot without question. That’s how they talked to their employees. And while Jongin and Baekhyun were their children, they were also employees.

But Jimin knew better. He knew his brothers were sneaky, cunning, and conniving when they wanted to be. Or needed to be. Jimin witnessed multiple times when Jongin and Baekhyun would blatantly ignore the commands of their parents. A prime example being the obvious relationship between Jongin and Kyungsoo. 

When the door closed, Jimin had turned his attention towards his brothers who were already raking and rumbling through his walk-in closet. He had began to join them; however, something on his bed caught his eye. The transparent plastic reflecting the sunlight back at Jimin. He crawled onto and up his bed and sat cross legged in front of the object his parents must’ve left for him.

It was a small, white cake in a plastic container with a big, lavender lotus covering the entire top surface of the cake. The words “Happy Birthday” written on the cake board. Looking at the cake a little longer, he noticed how familiar this particular lotus was. 

It was a perfect replica of the Lotus Syndicate’s crest. The way the lavender of the lotus was darker towards the center and much lighter, almost white, closer to the tips of its petals. A golden yellow coloring the center of the vast lotus. Jimin was sure that the lotus on top of the cake was even perfectly symmetrical. A lot of deliberation, calculation, and intention put into this cake. Asami and KangDae only put so much thought into things that were worth it and that they considered important. Jimin knew that. 

Suddenly lotuses weren’t so dumb to Jimin anymore. 

Jimin smiled at the gesture made by his parents. While it wasn’t guaranteed, Jimin felt like he had been officially welcomed into the Lotus Syndicate. 

Best birthday gift he could have asked for. 

 

Jimin was sitting in the cream leather seats of the private jet that was owned by their parents. It was spacious. The cream leather decorating most of the interior of plane looked so expensive that Jimin denied Jongin’s offer for a glass of soju, afraid that he would spill it. He felt like one of those high class businessmen off of those American shows that he liked to watch during his infinite amounts of free time at home. He chewed on his bottom lip to stop from smiling.

Jimin’s heart was beating so hard in his chest. So fast. He had to admit that while staring out of the small window of the plane… for the first time he felt like he was meant for something. He was no longer the family pet that was always at home, waiting for the return of his owners. No. Today, he was one of the sons of the bosses of the Lotus Syndicate empire. And he would do whatever he could to prove that. 

Despite that, he still found himself subconsciously scratching his nails against the polished, mahogany wood of the table sitting between him and Jongin. So hard that Jongin shared a worried glance with Baekhyun and laid his hand over Jimin’s from across the table. The gesture startled Jimin enough to extract a quiet yelp from his lips. 

“You okay?” Jongin asked. Jimin gulped and nodded his head. 

“I’m fine.” His words were a bit muffled under his gas mask. He had to wear it because both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were accompanying them to Osaka and were currently on the plane with them. Chanyeol was sitting behind them, speaking softly with Baekhyun while Kyungsoo was sitting alone in another seat, staring out of the window and fumbling with the button cuffs of his suit jacket.

Jongin gave a single nod of his head and let his hand fall from Jimin’s and back into his lap. He glanced over at Kyungsoo. Their gazes met for a split second before they both turned away. Jimin furrowed a brow as Jongin quickly turned to look out of the small window. Shifting in his seat. 

“Jimin, you will be attending the meeting with us, right?” Baekhyun suddenly asked, holding two glasses of soju, one presumably for Chanyeol. Jimin gazed at him in thought while Baekhyun placed one glass in front of his assistant.

“If so, you better choose quickly. The plane is about to land in a few minutes,” their mother interjected quickly. 

“Mhm. I would love to go.”

“And Jimin,” his mom said.

“Yes.”

“You look nice in your suit.” 

 

As soon as Jimin noticed the several suited men and that one woman filing into the room, he quickly took notice to how the atmosphere seemed to change. No. Not seemed. It did change. Something more sinister, tense, and intimidating lingered in the air now. He was suddenly grateful that he was wearing his gas mask. 

He had decided to come to the meeting, so he didn’t have to go to the hotel room alone. He had come to hate being by himself. Especially when given an opportunity to show that he was indeed not only the son of mafia bosses, but the brother of the heir. 

Jimin was wearing his half face gas mask, so he used all of his might to remember all of his brothers’ words of advice during the drive here and keep his eyes hard and his demeanor strong. When the men stared at him a moment too long- obnoxiously questioning the gas mask- Jimin didn’t cower or look towards the ceramic tiles of the floor, he looked back. Giving the most intimidating furrow of his eyebrow and glint in his eyes that he could muster. He kept his hands firmly clasped behind him against the small of his back while he stood between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. The three were to watch over Baekhyun and Chanyeol who were sitting at the long, oak table listening to the each of the men almostly robotically speak about statistics, rates, and other things akin to such topics. Kai who had been leaning back in his chair- seemingly indifferent- would take a look at their files. Slide it over to Baekhyun who would do the same. Then return it to the person.

Jimin didn’t recognize his brothers in that moment. Both usually easy going, mischievous but slightly intimidating beings. 

Now they were malicious and threatening. Superior and sly. Deceitful and underhanded. Even though he was pretty sure all of those men were older than Baekhyun and Jongin, they still looked so small when talking. Inferior. Subservient and submissive.

“So. I’m sure you’re all wondering why this meeting was called. Why would I fly all the way here to Osaka to ask you all about progress?” Jongin’s voice boomed. The sarcastic, sinister undertone of his question being so menacingly noticeable. All of the men and the one woman tensed. But Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol stayed put. Not affected at all. 

While they seemed to be fully aware of the reason behind calling this meeting, Jimin was stuck also wondering why the meeting was called. Waiting for the answer like everyone else. 

“Why would I do that, Baekhyun?” Jongin asked rhetorically. A bit of mock amusement but a whole lot of frustration in his tone. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? We would only fly out here for something significant. Some important shit if we had to fly our asses all the way out here,” Baekhyun chuckled, his tone an exact replica of Jongin’s. Jongin and Baekhyun seemed to feed off of each other’s energy. As if they had a dark secret that no one knew but the two of them. Everyone knowing that something bad was coming, but only Baekhyun and Jongin knew when. How. Where. And who.

“I would let you all take a guess,” Jongin said. “But I’m already pissed about this matter. So. So. Fucking. Pissed.” Jongin’s voice increasingly got darker and Jimin found his eyes widening and his lips curling down into a frown under his gas mask. 

“So I’ll tell you myself. Someone in this fucking room… believes that they are somehow over the rules of the Lotus Syndicate… and can break one of the top rules of the empire.”” Jongin alternated his gaze to everyone surrounding the table. “That rule being… that the Lotus Syndicate does not by any fucking means engage in sex slavery and sex trafficking. Correct?” 

Everyone nodded. Even Jimin nodded subconsciously, entranced by his brother’s voice like all of the employees.

“Correct, Sunmi?” Jongin said referring to the only woman in the room. She quickly raised her gaze from the table to meet Jongin’s and Baekhyun’s intense stares. 

“Correct, sir,” she said, voice loud and firm. Jimin was surprised at the fact her voice didn’t quiver and crack in the slightest. Her face even stayed tense and hard.

“Exactly… So why is it that some asshole believes that he can break that rule… And even has the audacity to keep the profit for himself,” Jongin said getting louder, but lowering his voice ominously towards the end. “Looks like we know it isn’t Sunmi. For she is a female. And he said… ‘he.’” Baekhyun followed. 

Everyone stayed still. The room so silent that Jimin was sure everyone could hear him gulp dryly. 

“Ryusei?” Jongin called suddenly. The slim, nerdy looking man with thick rimmed glasses that made his eyes look much too small, began to sputter. “Sir, I didn’t-”

“Shut up. You are acting as if you did the shit. All I did was call your fucking name. Pull your shit together,” Jongin spat. “You are in charge of drug manufacturing in Japan, right?” Ryusei nodded his head quickly in confirmation. Still anxious. “After manufacturing, the drugs are out of your hands and into the man in charge of drug trafficking…right?”

“Yes, Sir.” Ryusei nodded yet again, struggling to stay composed with the all of the attention focused directly on him. 

“And that man is…” Jongin and Baekhyun’s gaze fell onto a much older man whose eyes were focused strictly on the table. Refusing to look up. Hands scratching at the table, trying to ground himself for the worst to come. 

“Eito,” Baekhyun said, almost in a whisper, but the room was so quiet, so tense, that the whisper had the same impact as if he had yelled the man’s name. “You sold drugs to sex traffickers. Not just any. But child sex traffickers. Extending our business to something like that… is just downright disrespectful,” Jongin said, leaning back in his chair, pulling at the soft skin of his chin. He wanted to look indifferent. Him leaning back in his chair, an arrogant smile playing at the corner of his lips as he addressed the situation, caused fear to strike the man’s heart harder than if Jongin were to get up and slap the piss out of the man right there. 

The Lotus liked that fear. Jongin and Baekhyun loved that fear. 

“You know what happened to one of your superiors, right? Byun Asami. My mother. KangDae’s wife. One of the bosses of the Lotus Syndicate.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What happened then?”

“Mrs. Asami was a victim of sex slavery when she was a child, sir.”

“So you just blatantly disrespected her name and this empire… Guess you don’t give a shit about that though.” Jongin said, low but venomous. “Even had the audacity to take the profit for yourself, huh? Didn’t even put the money you made into the profits of the syndicate. Unacceptable.”

There was silence for a moment. 

“Young master, I- I promise that I-”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear that shit… Jimin?” 

Jimin was scared shitless when his name fell from his brother’s lips. Loud and booming. “Yes?” Jimin said loud enough to be heard clearly past his mask. 

“What should I do with this stupid asshole?” 

Jimin was well aware of how the empire liked to do things and how they worked. He knew full and damn well that the Lotus Syndicate didn’t just kill. They tortured. So that was his answer.

“...T-Torture him,” Jimin blinked a few times as he watched the man shoot out of his chair as soon as the words left Jimin’s lips and proceeded to beg and reason with Jongin. Explaining himself. Begging for mercy. Turning to Baekhyun to beg for his empathy. Jongin and Baekhyun just smiled. 

“Torture it is then,” Jongin said. The man continued to beg but there wasn’t a hint of empathy in their stares. “No one wants to hear your fucking bullshit, okay?” Baekhyun spat, standing and straightening out his suit. “Chanyeol, order the guards to take him to the warehouse. Ryusei and Kito grab him and wait for the guards to take his ass. Meeting dismissed,” Baekhyun said heading for the door, a look of annoyance on his face. Chanyeol quickly followed Baekhyun out while pressing two of his fingers to his earpiece to call for guards. 

Everyone else stood from their chairs and raced towards the narrow doors, all wanting to leave the room as soon as possible. No emotion on their faces as the commotion with Eito continued. Kyungsoo and Jimin stayed standing where they were, awaiting further instruction.

But Jongin stayed seated, amusingly watching the man struggle and fight against Ryusei and Kito who was still shouting his apology and pleads to spare him of torture. When he realized that they had no sympathy for him and there was no possibility of forgiveness, he started begging to be just be killed in that moment. Shot in the head right there. 

“Nope. I don’t want your pathetic blood all over the floor of this room. Such a hassle for the maids. I see you just have a thing for disrespect. I would much rather kill you tonight,” Jongin sighed. When the two guards arrived within another minute or so, that was when Jongin had decided to stand and motioned for Kyungsoo and Jimin to follow him towards the door.

Jimin found himself moving on command, leaving Eito in the room still pleading for his life to be taken now.

Following Jongin and Kyungsoo down the hallway and listening to the thudding of their hard heeled shoes against the tiles, Jimin couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He stared at the back of his brother’s head as Jongin conversed with Kyungsoo quietly. Jimin even had gotten the sudden urge to snatch his mask off and vomit right there on the glossed floors. But he suppressed the urge and focused on himself. In that moment. Doing so, Jimin had happened to catch on to what the two were talking about in front of him.

“You get to pick the types of torture for Eito tonight, baby,” Jongin whispered, the smile playing on his lips able to be heard.

“I can’t wait, Sir. I promise I’ll do my best to give you a good show,” Kyungsoo said, hands still clasped behind his back. A budding smile on his lips as he looked up at Jongin. Kyungsoo was rather short, standing at Jimin’s height, while Jongin was a bit taller. But something about Jongin’s height, aroused Kyungsoo in the most lustful way, loving how he had to look up at the man when they were in close proximity.

“Oh, if you do, Kyungsoo. I promise to reward you in the most pleasuring ways possible. You might even get to choose the reward.” Jongin turned his head to Kyungsoo and wet his lips with the tip of his pink tongue. It seemed to have an affect on Kyungsoo immediately who bit his lips harshly and looked forward as they finally reached the exit door of the grand building the meeting took place.

Jongin suddenly turned around and grabbed Jimin’s hand as if he had just remembered he was also there. He found that Jimin’s small hand was trembling within his own and even with the half face gas mask on, Jimin’s eyes were filled with confusion and something akin to fear.

“Jiminie. You will get used to it. You are the son of mafia bosses after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I know the gas mask doesn't make sense right now, but give it a chance and you will understand later. While writing this, I fell in love with the idea of Jimin in a gas mask. It's kind of cute!
> 
> And yes, Kaisoo is life. Most of BTS come in the next chapter in the 7 Point Syndicate.
> 
> Don't forget to be awesome.


	3. Power

Yoongi had an intense love for guns and fire. He couldn’t choose what brought him a greater joy: setting a fire and watching the flames rage fiercely or clicking the safety off of a gun and pulling the thin, metal trigger. They both gave him an indescribable feeling of power that he easily had gotten addicted to, after being deprived of it for so long. 

He remembers it so clearly: the first time he ever felt like  _ he  _ was the one who held the power. He was the one in control. 

Yoongi recalls, so vividly, the countless, useless phone calls to the nearby police department when he was a little kid. Crying to the dispatcher about how his uncle had tried to drown him in the bathtub after he failed a test to teach him a lesson. Pleading the dispatcher to quickly send an officer to his small home and arrest his uncle who burned him multiple times with his cigarette because Yoongi mistakenly broke a glass. Praying that the neighbors heard the harsh, cruel names and labels his uncle would engrain into his young brain. 

Worthless. Ugly. A burden to the world around him. That stuck with Yoongi.

If an officer did arrive, it was two hours later, after Yoongi was done being beaten nearly senseless for calling someone. His uncle would then tell the officer that Yoongi over exaggerated after being disciplined for failing that test. Or that Yoongi must’ve prank called the police department.  _ That’s a complete lie. _

The officer would then laugh, not even bothering to even look for Yoongi, and reassure his uncle that ‘kids do it all the time.’ 

Yoongi would hide under his bed covers and cry until he was on the verge of vomiting about how _that_ _was not true either._ But he was too afraid to run into the living room, strip himself of his long sleeved shirt, and show the officer all of the bruises on his arms and back from so many beatings and burns. 

He even wished that he could somehow show the officer the damage his uncle had done to his brain. To his mind. To his entire mental state. But those emotional scars aren’t something you can just show people. You could only explain them. And Yoongi didn’t have the words to explain the severity of how fucked up his mental state was. For he was only a child with a limited vocabulary and even more limited understanding of the situation. 

His budding interest with guns began when he was eleven years old. He spent most of his time in the shed in the backyard to stay as far away from his abusive uncle as possible. While playing with his soldier action figures in the shed, he came across a long, narrow box hidden under the workbench. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Yoongi opened it, revealing a pistol and an assault rifle. Yoongi reacted like most kids would, a deep gasp with wide, bulging eyes as he looked around to see if his uncle was closeby. 

But Yoongi wanted to explore. He didn’t know much about guns at the time, but he knew that he should stay away from the trigger. 

He fiddled with the pistol first. The cold metal against his tiny, pale fingers made him shiver and smile at the same time. He played with the lever on the side and had gotten the sudden urge to cock the gun. But he didn’t know how. Out of another sudden burst of curiosity, Yoongi raised the gun and pressed the cold barrel right against the contrasting warm skin of his temple. He closed his eyes and inhaled a sharp, deep breath. Then smiled. It gave Yoongi a pleasant rush of adrenaline to have that gun pressed directly against his cranium. Cold metal on warm soft skin. For the first time, he held something that could give  _ him  _ a choice. 

_ He could have the power. _

Opening his eyes again, he placed the pistol onto the ground next to him and grabbed the assault rifle next. It was mostly metal but there was a polished, caramel wood that adorned some parts. Yoongi couldn’t help but marvel at how big the gun was. It scared him to a certain extent, so he put it back in the box.

But the pistol. No. He would hide that somewhere else so his uncle didn’t know where it was. This hidden gun.  _ That  _ was Yoongi’s power. So he picked up his two action figures in one hand and took the gun into his other hand. Taking them all inside and placing them in his toy box of old and broken toys. 

On Yoongi’s twelfth birthday, to put it in simplest terms, he had gotten fed up. Ever since he had hidden the pistol, it was as if the firearm was constantly calling out to him, tempting him to end his suffering. He had managed to suppress the urge for months, telling himself that he could endure the beatings, that he was okay. Those thoughts ceased on his birthday.

He didn’t know why it bothered him so, but the fact that his uncle hadn’t even given him a single look that morning seemed to be the reason that Yoongi snapped. Yoongi wanted to be told happy birthday.  _ Wanted _ to be made breakfast and have a pretty birthday cake with his name on it on the dining table. Why wasn’t he getting that?

And when Yoongi realized that he  _ wouldn’t _ be getting what he wanted, he gave into his desire.  _ If I have to suffer so will you.  _

When his uncle had fallen asleep on the couch, head slightly tilted back against the cushions, Yoongi rummaged through his toy box until the freezing metal touched him. Reached out to him, urging him. 

He pulled out the gun and cocked it, the way the chubby man in the video he had watched a few weeks ago had demonstrated. He smiled again then slowly walked into the living room. Slowly stepping closer and closer to his uncle. He was getting closer to that metaphorical door that, if he opened, would change his life forever. 

He held the gun firmly within both of his tiny hands, his right index finger resting against the trigger. Yoongi wandered over to stand in front of his uncle’s sleeping body. If he were awake, Yoongi would be directly intercepting his uncle’s view of the loud television behind him. 

It was as if time had slowed as Yoongi raised the gun, put the barrel as close to his uncle’s forehead as he could get and, without any hesitation, pulled the trigger. 

Yoongi will never forget the loud, piercing sound of the gun being fired. The blood splatter from his uncle’s head. The jerk of his uncle’s head and body. The high pitch screech that reached Yoongi’s ears after he pulled the trigger that he, only seconds later, realized was from his on lips. 

For several minutes, he stood there, admiring the pretty bullet hole in his uncle’s head. He smiled. He smiled as if someone had just taken off his handcuffs and opened the gates of his jail cell and told him that he could run free. Even if he didn’t know where he would go, all Yoongi knew is that he was finally free.

He looked down at his favorite long sleeved shirt that he had put on for the special occasion of his birthday, and commended the blood splatter there. Yoongi thought that it was so beautiful. A painting worthy of a 100% in his art class.

Wetting his lips, he savored the coppery taste of blood that coincidentally made its way onto his lips. Maybe even some on his face, pants and torso. But to Yoongi, that was okay. There was no remorse. He had become a walking art piece, painted in the blood of his oppressor proving that he, in fact,  _ was  _ useful, beautiful, and worthy. 

But he was well aware that he couldn’t just stand there forever. Even more aware of the fact that he had just committed murder. But it didn’t bother him whatsoever because whatever remorse he did have somewhere in his heart was overshadowed by how fucking ecstatic he was to get revenge on his uncle. And when the cops got there, they would be able to see the damage that Yoongi had done to his brain. 

_ An eye for an eye right, Uncle. You fuck up my brain, I fuck up yours. _

Before Yoongi had left the house, he packed a single bag. But that content smile never left his face once. He took his uncle’s savings from inside his uncle’s pillowcase and stuffed it into his bag with everything else. When he was certain he had everything in the bag, Yoongi did one last job before leaving the miserable house for good.

He staged his own kidnapping. Breaking a few things, even throwing his uncle’s limp body into the coffee table to make it look like the man attempted to fight back at least. And then he was gone. 

When darkness had began to fall that night, Yoongi had somehow managed to wander into the city streets of Seoul. He had never been to the city and his attention was immediately grabbed by the amount of lights and things that glowed here at night. He liked it.

He attempted to look as if he knew where he was going and what he was doing that night because adults were bound to ask questions about the pale, little boy strolling the streets of Seoul when it should be his bedtime. When Yoongi had deemed himself completely exhausted, he sat on a bench and closed his eyes for a little while. “I will rest,” he told himself. So he did.

“Excuse me, young man?” The stern voice startled him as he shot up from where he was lying. He hadn’t known he had fallen asleep. He wonders if someone called the police. The idea of the cops finding him was enough to have Yoongi attempting to run off but a boy’s voice stopped him. “Don’t worry, my daddy won’t call anyone. Promise.”

Yoongi had come to learn that that boy’s name was Namjoon. That night was the night Yoongi had met his new father and brothers and was accepted as the middle son of the boss of the 7 Point Syndicate.

__  
  
  


“Let’s see how you did,” Yoongi sighed as he watched an optimistic grin spread across his younger brother’s face. Jungkook lowered the gun, letting out an unsteady breath, and watched Yoongi take down the target practice paper. The optimistic, proud smirk on his face slowly dropped as Yoongi’s face stayed expressionless as he walked over studying the large paper. 

Jungkook could’ve sworn that he did a good job this time. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek to refrain from pouting in disappointment. Yoongi laid the large paper of the target practice torso onto the table behind them. 

Yoongi, Jungkook, and Namjoon went to the shooting range whenever they had the time because it was crucial that Jungkook learned how to aim better. He was great at most things, Yoongi would admit, but aiming a gun was at the very bottom of Jungkook’s long list of expertise. The top would be his ability in hand to hand combat. His boyish looks and his ripe age of eighteen did a good job in fooling people into thinking he didn’t know his way around a fist or a knife fight. 

“One bullet to the head. Needs to be at least three. Three bullets to the chest. That’s great compared to the zero you had last time. One in the neck. Four to the shoulders. Kook, I know you can do better than this.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to his left leg, hating that he was being scolded yet again. He didn’t wanna hear that he could do better. “I  _ will  _ do better. Damn, give a brother a chance.” Jungkook groaned and switched the safety on the gun back on and tossing the gun on the table.

Yoongi huffed in response to his whining, moving to run a hand down Jungkook’s arm in silent comfort. Silently telling him that he knew that he could do it. That he  _ will  _ do it. There was no doubt in Yoongi’s mind that Jungkook couldn’t. 

For further reference, Yoongi decided to roll up the target practice paper and place it in the corner. He assumed that allowing Jungkook see his progress from time to time will boost his confidence when handling a gun, so he wouldn’t have to endure those pouts any longer. 

A bit more relaxed, Jungkook initially picked up the gun to return it to its casing but Yoongi suddenly grabbed his wrist, twisting it enough to cause him pain.

“What’s your problem, Hyung? I just wanted to put it back,” Jungkook whimpered snatching his hand away. Out of acquired instinct, Jungkook had attempted to swing at Yoongi. Jungkook was fast but Yoongi was knew the boy too well and easily caught his wrist, glaring at Jungkook.

“You know I like to shoot a bit before we leave. Now do me a favor and put up another torso paper.” Yoongi grasped the pistol in his right hand and reloaded the magazine clip quickly. As Jungkook finished, he stepped to the side knowing that this wouldn’t take long at all. 

“All done,” Jungkook called. 

Yoongi inhaled a deep, refreshing breath and raised his right arm. He no longer needed to hold the gun with two hands like Jungkook had. Like he had when he ended his misery almost ten years ago. All Yoongi needed was one hand to hold a pistol. And he almost never missed his target. 

But that was thanks to his uncle. Whatever Yoongi aimed at, his uncle’s face appeared. Everytime he shot a gun, the entire situation replayed in his mind and the imagine of yet another bullet being lodged into his uncle’s head appeared in his mind. It brought a pleasant smile to his lips.

He loved it. 

With one arm raised and his other hand pushed within the pocket of his pressed slacks, Yoongi emptied the entire magazine into the paper torso a few feet away. He relished in the loudness of the bullet leaving the gun. The recoil as he pressed onto the trigger again and again until the gun was eliciting only a sharp, empty  _ click,  _ telling him that the magazine clip was empty. _.  _ Yoongi’s eyes rolled to the back of his head in satisfaction and he let a pleasured sigh fall from his lips. A reaction that was so similar to the way he reacted when Hoseok bent him over his desk after a long, exhausting day of looking over encrypted files and drove himself into Yoongi, bringing him to fantastic, mind blowing orgasms. Or when it was the other way around and Hoseok was the one whimpering, gasping, and begging as Yoongi brought him up and over the edge. The feeling of power was just that orgasmic.

He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, opened his eyes, and lowered the gun. He gulped and took a few deep breaths to calm his ragged breathing. “You did amazing, Yoongi-hyung. Look,” Jungkook smiled coming over with the torso paper. “Five headshots, five shots to the chest.”

Yoongi had opened his mouth to respond, but his phone had started ringing from in his pocket. He handed the gun to Jungkook a bit too harshly than he had intended, still overcome with the feeling of power, and slid the phone from his pocket.

“Joonie got food!” Jungkook gasped childishly, rushing over towards the table closest to the entrance where Namjoon was digging through a white paper bag. Yoongi smirked a bit at their oldest brother’s grunt of approval. Glancing over at the two, he noticed that Namjoon had made a quick walk to the nearby fast food place, before he swiped his thumb across the phone screen to answer the call.

“Hello?” 

“Where’s Namjoon.” Their father’s voice was laced with irritation. Yoongi sighed and began making his way towards his brothers. Both Yoongi and their father were fully aware that Namjoon hadn’t answered his phone on purpose. 

“He’s here. Just came back from buying lunch.” The way Namjoon had stopped unwrapping his burger and huffed in annoyance was enough evidence to confirm Yoongi and his father’s prediction that Namjoon indeed did ignore their father’s call. 

“What? Am I not allowed to have some peace while I’m trying to eat?” Namjoon rolled his eyes and fully unwrapped the burger, taking a bite. 

“You know I wouldn’t bother-” Yoongi put the phone on speaker as he sat down, pulling his own burger out of the bag. “-to call you if the matter wasn’t important,” his father shot back.

“We know, daddy,” Jungkook answered with a mouth full of lettuce and too much ketchup. Yoongi was sure that Namjoon asked for extra lettuce for Jungkook’s burger. The youngest loved his burger with lots of lettuce and ketchup.

“Well, what is it?” Yoongi inquired, biting into his own cheeseburger. He hadn’t realized he was this hungry.

“Seokjin called me a minute ago in a frenzy.” The mentioning of Seokjin caused Namjoon to completely forget about the burger he had just finished complaining about. “It seems there has been a dilemma or some type of altercation at our casino and he is asking you to get there as soon as possible. He was completely out of breath and was  _ furious. _ I’ve already sent a car to pick you up from the warehouse. Make sure you are ready to get going when Eun gets there. You know how Seokjin is when he’s upset, the entire block might be in flames if you get there too late.”

Seokjin rarely got angry. He handled things with calmness and thought things through before acting. It’s one of the reasons why Namjoon and Jin understood each other so well. They were two sides to the same coin. But when Jin was angry, it wasn’t exactly something that needed to be taken lightly, for he was out of control when his patience ran too thin. That man taught Jungkook everything he knows about hand to hand combat and, even with Jungkook’s skills, could still kick his ass in under five minutes.

But it got worse when Namjoon entered the situation. If Jin was mad, then Namjoon was infuriated. That’s why both Yoongi and Jungkook’s face went stone cold when their father said how pissed Seokjin was. He didn’t say Jin was mad or angry. No. He said furious. It made all three of them stop eating, all worried about what could’ve possibly happened. 

“Alright, we are gonna lock up here and be outside right away,” Namjoon said, standing. With a one rough grunt, their father ended the call. Yoongi pocketed his phone once again and grabbed his burger following his brothers outside. This was about to be a  _ long  _ afternoon.

__  
  


“Why the hell is this car so cramped,” Jungkook complained. The boy was just in a really bad mood from having to sit in the middle seat because the passenger seat was crowded with bags and files that Eun, their personal driver, had to deliver to their father’s office after this.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at Jungkook’s brattiness. He was pretty sure their dad bought the Mercedes Maybach for the sole fact that Jungkook asked for it. Pouted was a better way to put it. With just a pout, Jungkook got whatever he desired. Their father would always make a lame attempt at denying Jungkook but gave in without a fight. 

“I don't like this car. I want a new one.” Jungkook stuffed the rest of his burger into his mouth and sighed dramatically. 

“What’s wrong with the car?” Yoongi asked, rubbing his hand across the flawless, tan leather of the armrest as to prove his point that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the car. 

“I’m cramped, for one. And two, I’ve been looking at getting a Lamborghini Aventador for a while.” Namjoon’s annoyed sigh caught both of their attention. 

“What’s your prob-” Jungkook started but definitely didn’t finish.

“This car is perfectly fine and you’re talking about how you want another one. You’re being a brat and it’s annoying the hell out of me. You’re an adult now, stop being so childish all the time.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. Namjoon was the only one Jungkook couldn’t get through to with that childish pout of his. Hell, even Yoongi would break under the pressure when the youngest frowned in disappointment. But Namjoon didn’t play those games. As the oldest, he was raised and disciplined under the most strict circumstances. He wasn’t too hard on Jungkook, but without Namjoon, Jungkook wouldn’t have been disciplined in the slightest. It didn’t help that Namjoon was also in a bad mood. Everytime Eun stopped for pedestrians or even stopped at a redlight, Namjoon would sigh heavily and tap his feet harder on the car floor. 

“Sorry, Joon,” Jungkook muttered. He began to pick and bite at the hangnail on his thumb, visibly shrinking. 

Namjoon had just grunted in response and continued staring out of the window. Silence took over the car except for the quiet humming of Eun in the driver’s seat. Yoongi knew what was coming. He could hearing the ticking of the metaphorical timer that was counting down the seconds until Namjoon would, not give in but, construct a compromise. 

Then the timer went off. 

“You want a Lamborghini Aventador, Kook?” Yoongi smirked at his own vague reflection in the car window when Namjoon’s smooth but deep voice suddenly broke the silence. 

“Yeah, Joonie. I really want one.” 

“How about this. When you get three headshots and four chest shots at the shooting range, I’ll convince dad to buy it.” Yoongi could hear the smirk on Namjoon’s lips and could almost feel the radiant smile on Jungkook’s face. 

“You’re too nice, Joon,” Yoongi commented. 

“Might as well do a little something nice because what I’m about to do to whoever hurt Jin is about to beyond just  _ mean, _ ” Namjoon said as the towering, grandly embroidered building of the The Lucky Seven casino came into view. 

__  
  


It was when the three of them entered the casino that they realized that they had no idea where Seokjin exactly was. He could on any of the five floors and the fact that the casino was beyond packed didn’t help. But Namjoon quickly made an assumption that Seokjin was most likely on the top floor in his office. Not wanting to waste any time, Yoongi and Jungkook just followed.

Yoongi knew that Namjoon was right about Jin being on this floor as soon as the steel doors of the elevator opened. The vexxed shouting coming from down the hall was able to be heard clearly from most likely everywhere on that floor, making all employees rather uneasy as they attempted to continue their work.

As soon as Namjoon burst through the door, the yelling came to a complete stop. Seokjin whipped his head around hard enough that Yoongi was surprised he didn’t break or pull something. Jin’s face was color of raging inferno, eyes were a bloodshot red, and the veins in his neck and head were bulging in anger. His usually neatly groomed, designer pinstripe suit was covered in blood and torn in several places. The furniture thrown everywhere and millions of shards of glass scattered on the floor let Yoongi know there was some type of struggle that went down here.  

But that wasn’t what bothered Yoongi. What bothered Yoongi was Jin’s swollen, busted lip, his purple, bruised eye, and the long, nasty cuts on his cheek. 

Yoongi let his gaze fall upon four of his father’s men, who were also in a bad shape just similar to Seokjin. All of them had their arms forcibly tied behind their back and they were kneeling on the ground helplessly. He recognized all of their faces from boring meetings that he and Namjoon were forced to go to by their father. If he remembered correctly, they were in charge of the assassinations that the 7 Point Syndicate needed done quietly and quickly.

What the hell were they doing here, all tied up in rope, bleeding, and beaten?

“Princess, what happened here?” Namjoon’s voice was low. Deep. Angry. 

“You wouldn’t believe what they tried to do.” Seokjin laughed bitterly, moving in front of the seemingly tall older man that seemed to be in his late thirties and harshly kicking the man in the stomach with all of his strength. The man doubled over and groaned loudly in pain.

“Can you believe that these  _ assholes  _ tried to rape and kill me,” Seokjin chuckled maliciously once again before turning to Namjoon who was standing in front of Yoongi and Jungkook stiffly. “They rushed in here, locked that door… and tried to touch me…even held a knife up to my throat and everything!”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. Yeah. He was surprised that anyone would ever target Jin, especially with someone like Namjoon by his side almost every hour of the day. But he was even more baffled by the fact that Jin had been able to defend himself against these four men with just the simple switchblade he carried with him.

Namjoon didn’t respond immediately. He was only ever quiet in these situations under one condition: when he was deep in thought. 

“They just burst in here? Without explanation?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah. Said that… they weren’t gonna do business for a homo who fucks men,” Jin spat as he angrily ran a hand through his hair at an attempt to brush it back and out of his face.

Yoongi frowned a bit. He wouldn’t exactly say that Namjoon was gay, but he wouldn’t say he was straight either. To Yoongi, it seemed like Namjoon never worried about attraction to anyone. The only person who ever caught Joon’s attention was Seokjin, and Yoongi and Jungkook were sure that Seokjin would be the  _ only  _ person for a long time.

Yoongi looked closely at Jin and noticed that his hands were trembling and, in fact, the man was trembling all over, like he was standing in the middle of a blizzard. While Jin kept his composure, Yoongi knew him well enough to notice just how shaken and possibly scared he was. Yoongi couldn’t blame him either. Jin was amazing in combat, but still lacked weight and intimidation. Being ambushed by four much bigger men must’ve shaken Jin in the worst of ways, and it seemed like Namjoon took notice to that.

“Come here, Jinnie.” It was as if Jin was waiting for those words to leave Namjoon’s mouth. Jin was in his arms in just seconds, clutching Namjoon’s suit jacket to steady and ground himself, breathing in his scent. Namjoon hadn’t had time to comfort Jin, however, because he already knew what he wanted to do to these men. He wanted to see them suffer. See them in pain. So instead of wrapping Jin in his embrace, he pulled his lover with him to stand directly in front of the four men, who were still kneeling quietly, awaiting Namjoon. Already accepting their fates.

“Explain.” The one word left Namjoon’s mouth like a determined last breath. Unlike their father, Namjoon liked to understand a situation before acting, so whenever something went wrong, that one word demand left his lips. And he expected an explanation at that moment. But none of the men spoke up nor raised their gaze from the floor.

“So no one gonna answer me?” Still no answer. The room was silent for a few seconds before Namjoon quickly whipped the pistol from inside of his suit jacket and simply raised it to one of the men’s head. And pulled the trigger. It all happened so fast that Jungkook was looking around for what happened when the gun went off. All he knew is that someone had been killed which was inevitable when the couple was upset.

The man’s body fell limp instantly and he dropped to the floor with a loud echoing thud, blood oozing out of the hole now prettily placed right between his eyes that were wide open but lifeless. Yoongi felt a familiar shock of pleasant electricity rush through his veins and bloodstream. Jungkook just stared.

“Again, Joonie,” Jin whispered, looking down at the dead man. “I want all of them killed for hurting me.” 

“Just wait, love.” Namjoon gently laid a kiss on the bloody gash on Jin’s left cheek. “I’m tempted to just end all your lives right here for laying even a finger on Jin. But that wouldn’t be fun would it? I’ll let you all know right now that you will not be getting it as easy as this fatass here. I’m not gonna just shoot you in your head and let you die that easy. Not gonna happen.” 

“You know what I think, Joon?” Yoongi spoke up suddenly, leaving his spot next to the door and going to stand at Namjoon’s other side. “I think these men thought that by hurting Jin, they could somehow hold the power that only you have. But look where that got them. Kneeling on the ground at  _ our  _ feet. Their last day on earth. Standing before us waiting for judgment on their judgment day.” 

“ I like the way you think, Yoongi, but I still want an explanation from them about why they think it is acceptable for them to hurt Jin and talk bad about me. I'm practically your savior.” Namjoon looked over the men once more. “Still not talking, huh?”

Namjoon laughed. “Okay. You don’t wanna use your tongues when you have it? Fine, I’ll just chop that off along with all of you guys’ fingers and cocks since you don’t know how to keep them to yourselves. I’ll finish by having your throats slit just because that’s what Jin likes.”

The rest of the men had suddenly snapped their attention from on the floor to Namjoon’s condescending smirk. “Namjoon, master-” a much more slender but short man began but instead of listening, Namjoon raised the pistol again and whipped it across the man’s face, sending him flying to the floor from the force. 

“I gave you a chance to talk and you didn’t take it. Not my fault.” Namjoon took Jin’s hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Let’s get them to the basement. I want the stench of their blood when we’re through with them to linger down there, reminding any men that think that I’m somehow  _ not worthy  _ that they’d do better keeping their mouths closed.”

__  
  
  


“Eito, this isn’t a matter of right and wrong but rather a matter of loyalty and disloyalty. Got that?” Jongin and Kyungsoo both circled Eito like he was their prey, waiting for the perfect time to just devour him. Jongin watched the man struggle in the chair helplessly. He commended the way Kyungsoo strategically tied the rough ropes and binds around Eito’s naked body, admiring the way the ropes criss-crossed and dug into the man’s pale, so easily bruised skin, restricting him of all movement below the neck.

He ran a hand across Eito’s cheek that was painted red from the embarrassment of being naked and tied down while they were fully clothed. “Lemme ask you a question, Eito,” Jongin whispered in his ear

Eito didn’t respond, only moved his eyes to meet Jongin’s. “Why’d you sell the drugs to those sex traffickers? Do you support the trafficking of children, is that it?” 

“N-no. T-they just offered a good deal. I-I don’t know.”

“Do we not pay you enough, Eito?

“You pay me well, Young Master.”

“You’re pissing me off, Eito. You know that? Because everything that leaves your mouth is contradicting your actions a few days ago.” Jongin pulled back and stood next to Kyungsoo who patiently waited for a command.

“You say you don’t support sex trafficking yet you give a shitload of drugs to the traffickers themselves. It makes no sense… I wonder how you would feel if  _ your  _ daughter was in sex trafficking.” Eito’s eyes widened as his head snapped up to stare at Jongin. 

“No,” Eito whispered. “No. No! No! Please! Don’t hurt my daughter!”

“Isn’t she only… thirteen? Would hate to end her childhood and have her forced into sex slavery, just like my mother. To be extorted everyday.  _ Used _ everyday for sexual favors. Maybe even drugged using the  _ same  _ drugs you gave to those trafficking rings. It’ll be  _ all your fault,  _ Eito. You will be the reason for that. Poor girl. I only feel pity for her,” Jongin sighed, mockingly. 

Eito was weeping and trembling now as Jongin taunted him, sobs raking through his body as he pleaded loudly. “Don’t hurt her! She did nothing!” Jongin hadn’t noticed that Kyungsoo had walked away until he had come back holding a blue folder: Eito’s files. Kyungsoo opened it, flipped through it until a picture of a little girl came into view.

“Aww, Master, look how pretty she is,” Kyungsoo tilted the folder his way. 

“Oh, she is, isn’t she? Oh and she plays sports? Let Eito see his beautiful daughter.” Kyungsoo shoved the files into Eito’s already swollen, tear stricken face on command. The picture of his smiling little girl caused Eito to give a sharp, deafening cry as he fought against the ropes. It was as if Kyungsoo had stabbed a knife right through Eito’s heart.

Kyungsoo smiled and handed the file to Jongin. Kyungsoo kneeled in front of Eito and ran a thumb across his cheeks. Eito tried jerking his face away but Kyungsoo grabbed hold on his jaw, pressing his thumb and index finger hard against his jaw bone. 

“You wanna play a game?”

“No,” Eito coughed in between gasps. 

“Oh, but I think you do.” Jongin stepped back and allowed Kyungsoo to take control for he enjoyed watching Kyungsoo in control. He allowed his eyes to travel down his lover’s body. The broadness of his shoulders, the curve of his back, the short length of his legs. Jongin sighed as he imagined how pleasing it would be to having Kyungsoo strip for him right here.

“How about this…” Kyungsoo pulled a revolver out of his suit pocket. “There are five bullets in this revolver instead of six, meaning one of the barrels are empty. You’re gonna pick a number, one through six. I’ll then shoot the gun. If there is in fact a bullet in that barrel you picked, your daughter will be put into sex slavery as early as tomorrow morning. But if there isn’t a bullet that comes out, your daughter is saved.”

Eito opened his mouth once again to scream as loud as he could for someone to help him. They all were aware of how  _ little  _ of a chance Eito had to pick the empty barrel. Approximately 17%. “This is your fault, Eito,” Jongin said loudly, to be heard over his screams, “You shouldn’t have funded those bastards that hurt innocent, precious kids like your daughter!”

Jongin could practically feel the man’s heart break and his mind split open in agony as more tears fell from his face. Jongin could only imagine the headache the man must’ve had. Kyungsoo waved the gun in front of Eito’s face and continued mocking him. “Come on, Eito. You have a chance. If you don’t pick in the next five seconds, there is a 100% chance, your daughter will lose her entire childhood. We are in fact being kind to you. Pick. A. Number.”

“Three!” He yelled, his cries halting for a second. Silence filled the air in anticipation.   Kyungsoo smiled and stepped back, turning the barrel until he had the third slot lined up perfectly. He raised the gun, aiming it directly at Eito. Just for effect. And that’s exactly what he got. Eito’s eyes widened to an impossible width as he winced harshly. At the last second however, Kyungsoo oved the gun and the bullet went directly above Eito’s freshly shaven head.

“Aww. It looks like six was the right answer. Poor thing. I feel so sorry for your little girl.” Eito’s entire body began to shake as he constantly muttered the word ‘No.’ He started rocking himself and the chair he was strapped to, his bloodshot red eyes staring at a single rock on the ground next to Kyungsoo’s shoes. He was slowly going crazy. 

“Put him out of his misery. He’s reached his breaking point,” Jongin whispered in Kyungsoo’s ear. With a single nod, Kyungsoo lowered the gun, aiming for his chest and stomach before he pulled the trigger twice, emptying bullets four and five into Eito. The man’s body jerked but that was his last movement. 

They stood in silence for about a minute before Jongin spoke up. “You really wanna put the girl into sex slavery?”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and threw the revolver onto the ground in front of Eito’s still bound, bloody, naked body. “Of course not. She’s done nothing wrong. Plus, hurting innocent children is just disgusting to me. We’ll let her live her life. But… he’ll never know that, will he?” He turned to look at Jongin with a sly grin.

“Well, I already have a physician on the way. Maybe he’ll survive, who knows.” Jongin moved closer to Kyungsoo and placed his hands on his ironically thin waist and hips and burying his face in his neck.

“If he doesn’t, then oh well. But if he does survive, well at least he gets to go home and see his daughter, and he’ll know not to fucking mess with the Lotus anymore. Might have some PTSD but he’ll be alright.”

Jongin smirked and grabbed Kyungsoo by the nape of his neck and pulled him in for a smoldering kiss filled with pride and passion. The coldness of Kyungsoo’s tongue was most satisfying, juxtaposing the heat that was engulfing Jongin’s body.. “You did so well,” Jongin whispered against his full, plump lips. Kyungsoo could only smile into the kiss. 

Little did the two of them know, that outside of the door stood a trembling Jimin who had overheard the entire game the two played with Eito while patiently waiting for Baekhyun and Chanyeol to pick him up. Jimin knew that he was in fact not ready to be the son of mafia bosses. The youngest son cried behind the confines of his full face gas mask at the idea of disappointing his family. 


	4. Knowledge

Jongin could never get enough of Kyungsoo’s lips. They were the epitome of lust but also of loyalty. Every swipe of Kyungsoo’s tongue against his, every moan that Kyungsoo exhaled into his lungs was like the man was declaring his endless loyalty to Jongin. Yeah, Kyungsoo was loyal to the Lotus Syndicate, but that was by oath. The searing, hot kisses, the breathless moans when they touched, the willingness to submit to him completely was Kyungsoo declaring loyalty to Jongin  _ only _ . 

The thought had Jongin subconsciously pulling Kyungsoo’s body impossibly closer to his, loving the feeling of the latter’s bare chest pressed so nicely against his, and catching his lips in a sloppy, passionate kiss. He mercilessly grinded his hips down against Kyungsoo to create the friction that they both had been craving, pinning his hands just above his head as he did so. The sudden surge of pleasure from the action caused them to unintentionally break the kiss and gasp into each other’s mouths, the sweat on their foreheads intermingling as the heat of their arousal and the desire for contact became too much for both of them to handle.

“Master… Please give me my reward… I want it so so bad,” Kyungsoo whined in between hitched breaths.

When the physician and a few men arrived, Kyungsoo and Jongin had left the warehouse almost immediately. He hadn’t seen his brothers when he exited the warehouse, so Jongin had ran to the car with his hand wrapped tightly around Kyungsoo’s slender wrist. Of course, all that was on Jongin’s mind was giving Kyungsoo his reward because he had been so obedient that night. When they had finally reached the hideous ass rental car his dad had sent for them, Jongin was completely ready to drive off- breaking all necessary traffic laws- to get back to the hotel. But with a simple glance at Kyungsoo’s hooded eyes and wanton smirk, both laced with undeniable lust sexual longing, Jongin had pulled the latter into the backseat instead.

Kyungsoo had immediately wrapped himself around Jongin as they pulled at each others ties, unbuttoning their restricting dress shirts, sinking their nails into any and every expanse of skin they could reach on the other. But it wasn’t enough. And Kyungsoo had attempted to give Jongin countless signs that he didn’t want the foreplay. He wanted to be filled, manhandled,  _ rewarded  _ but Jongin liked to tease. Reduce him to a begging, pleading mess before ever giving him what he wanted. 

It wasn’t fair. He was good today.

“What do you want?” Jongin whispered against his lips. He rolled his hips a little harder against Kyungsoo’s erection and dipped his head to kiss at a spot on Kyungsoo’s neck that he had been avoiding purposefully. He knew this spot always caused Kyungsoo indescribable amounts of pleasure so he always used it to his advantage.

As Jongin licked and sucked on the soft skin right below Kyungsoo’s jaw, Kyungsoo’s hips bucked against Jongin’s without warning as a wave of pleasure washed over him and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“ _ Fuck yeah _ ,” he gasped breathlessly, throwing his head to the side to give him more access. “Master, please.” Jongin kept his lips on that spot but let his hands trail down, brushing past his nipples, and to the fastening of his pants. The feeling of Jongin’s hand  _ finally  _ reaching down to undo his pants had Kyungsoo instinctively spreading his thighs as wide as he could in the cramped car and eliciting a choked, guttural moan of anticipation and desire. 

“Please stop teasing me,” Kyungsoo whined when all Jongin did was begin palming him through his boxers. It’s not what he wanted. Kyungsoo was getting so impatient that he was tempted to kick, scream, and throw a tantrum.

“I asked what you wanted, Soo.” 

“I want you inside me. I’m so hard. And it’s so damn hot up in this stupid ass car. God, I hate this, Master. Please, give it to me.” 

Kyungsoo was rambling, something he did only when he was overwhelmed with emotions and feelings and couldn’t contain his feelings inside any longer. With a weak chuckle, Jongin moved from lying on top of him to kneeling upright between Kyungsoo’s widely spread legs. Before Kyungsoo was able to respond, Jongin had pulled Kyungsoo’s legs into the air and began wrenching his suit pants and underwear off. Kyungsoo was practically trembling as his hard, leaking cock finally was freed.

“Get the lube out of the bag,” Jongin demanded, wrapping his thick fingers around Kyungsoo’s cock and giving it a few firm strokes just to see the precum bead at the top. He had gotten the urge to kiss and suck on the tip but continued stroking instead, pretty sure Kyungsoo would cum too soon if he did.

Kyungsoo had easily reached into the side pocket of the Jongin’s bag on the floor and pulled out the small bottle, shoving it at Jongin.

“Hurry up.” 

Jongin gave an endearing smile in response to the frustration laced in Kyungsoo’s demand as his hand left Kyungsoo’s aching cock. Jongin poured a good amount onto his fingers, making direct eye contact with Kyungsoo just to tease him as he warmed his fingers.

One thick, slick finger pressing at his entrance had Kyungsoo bucking his hips again and sighing in pleasure at  _ finally  _ being given some type of relief. Jongin pumped, curled, and circled his fingers around inside Kyungsoo, savoring the feeling of the pads of his fingers caressing wet, tight walls and the contracting of Kyungsoo’s thighs and stomach. So beautiful.

While Jongin would’ve loved to rush the process of stretching him, he knew how much Kyungsoo hated unnecessary pain when they fucked. Kyungsoo liked being fucked rough enough that he felt it the next day but also enjoyed being cared for. Jongin took note of that from the very beginning. 

When he thought Kyungsoo was loose enough, he added a second finger, loving the tightness.

By the third finger, Jongin had inched back up Kyungsoo’s body and kissed and nipped at the latter’s lips again as he pumped his three fingers inside him harshly. Kyungsoo had his eyes squeezed shut as he focused directly on the feeling of Jongin’s fingers and the constant pleasurable drag and burn of his rim, ensuring that it wasn’t too much. It was just enough pain to balance the pleasure. He grasped and scratched at Jongin’s white dress shirt that was falling off of Jongin’s shoulders, creating a delicious contrast of white linen and tan, flawless skin.

“Please fuck me. I’m ready for you,” Kyungsoo drawled. Not wanting to wait for Jongin to do it, Kyungsoo reached for the bottle of lube that Jongin had discarded on the car floor and poured some into his hand. 

Jongin took that time to balance his weight on one hand and take in the beauty that was Kyungsoo in such a wrecked state. He felt a shiver race through his body causing him to inhale sharply. Kyungsoo had given up everything to Jongin in that moment. So vulnerable. Trusting Jongin enough to let go of himself completely. But he had to remember that Kyungsoo was his assistant. That meant no personal feelings.

But honestly, who cared? Definitely not Jongin. Kyungsoo was just too beautiful.

Jongin unbuckled his pants and pulled them down enough to pull out his member. He hadn’t known that he was so desperate and aching for Kyungsoo’s touch until the had reached between them and stroked him, slow and firm, coating his cock in lubricant. 

“Okay. I’m ready now. All for you, Master. I deserve this. I was so good. Give it to me. Damn it, I hate this stupid shirt and this stupid, hot ass car.” Kyungsoo started rambling again as he reached down to spread his cheeks just because he knew how much Jongin loved it. Meeting Kyungsoo’s glazed stare with a cocky smirk and growling at the sight of Kyungsoo so spread open for him, Jongin gave himself one last stroke and pushed the head of his cock into the man lying beautifully on the cream leather seats of the rented BMW.

Kyungsoo held his breath as he felt Jongin pull out almost completely and slide back inside with a single, smooth thrust, a quiet drawl of ‘ _ yes’  _ leaving Kyungsoo’s lips as he exhaled. Jongin pulled one of Kyungsoo’s legs over his shoulder and allowed the other to fall open and to the side, but Kyungsoo opted to wrap that leg around Jongin’s waist.

“Ahh! So good, Master. Feel so good inside me,” he whimpered, pulling Jongin impossibly closer. 

“So beautiful, baby. Take it so well.” Jongin couldn’t help but praise him. He was so hot, so wet, so open. All for him. Jongin swiftly grasped Kyungsoo’s thigh that was tightly hooked around his hips and threw it over his other shoulder. Fueled by Kyungsoo’s violently heaving chest and shortness of breath, Jongin drove himself a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster into Kyungsoo just so he can hear those loud, raspy, guttural moans in tandem with the obnoxious sound of skin slapping against skin and  _ feel _ Kyungsoo press his nails deep into whatever skin he could find purchase on at that time.

“Talk to me more, sweetheart,” Jongin said breathlessly, enjoying the way Kyungsoo’s face distorted from pleasure as he was bent in half and roughly pounded into.

“M-Master, I-I… Oh God!” Kyungsoo gripped Jongin’s biceps to brace himself and gasped harshly as Jongin thrusted directly into a spot that had Kyungsoo’s toes curling and all of his muscles contracting. Kyungsoo reached down to curl his fingers tightly around his cock as he pumped his hand fluidly and in rhythm with Jongin’s thrust. “ Ugh! Shit! Right there! I’ve been thinking about this all day, Master. Don’t stop pl-”

The annoying tune of Jongin’s cell phone suddenly going off had caused them to stop in their heated moment of passion. Jongin stopped his erratic thrusting and looked at the phone, that was also on the cluttered car floor along with their suit jackets, ties, guns, and bags. 

“It’s just Baekhyun. We don’t need to answer that.” 

Kyungsoo looked a bit skeptical and hesitant but didn’t retaliate as Jongin kissed him again, forcing his plump lips apart to taste him with just the tip of his tongue. Kyungsoo cried out and sharply arched his back as Jongin continued thrusting with an even more satisfying pace than before, hitting the right spots so deep inside him, making it so much easier to ignore the stupid tune. 

It was so good. Soft but raspy whispers of  _ more  _ and  _ yes  _ left the man’s lips continuously.

But once the ringing stopped, it started again.

“Ugh, what the hell does he want?” Jongin stopped once again and blindly grabbed the vibrating device from the floor. Jongin stayed seated inside Kyungsoo, who had lazily started stroking his aching cock for any type of relief, so close to crying out of frustration. He let his legs fall off of Jongin’s shoulders with a disappointed, impatient sigh. 

“What?”

“Where are you? Jimin didn’t handle today well and I need you to be here with me to talk to him.” Jongin sighed. If Baekhyun was calling for his help it either meant that Jimin had wanted him there or Jimin really was in such a bad shape that Baekhyun was struggling to calm him. Either way, Jongin knew he should be there for his brother.

“I’ll be there when I get there,” Jongin said before hanging up the phone without waiting for Baekhyun’s unnecessary comments that he knew were coming. Throwing the phone into the front seat, Jongin leaned over and cupped Kyungsoo’s face in his hands, placing one long kiss on his lips.

“We gotta go, baby. Promise I’ll make it up to you.” Kyungsoo wrapped his legs tighter around Jongin to keep him seated deep inside him.

“No. I’m so c-close. Please finish me now and we’ll continue later.” Jongin growled and bit his lip. “Fine, baby.”   
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

Jimin was sitting on the dark tiled floor of the bathroom in their hotel room, listening to Baekhyun’s firm pleas for him to unlock the door. He had long ago taken off his gas mask, pitching it against the wall, and was staring at himself in the mirror now. If he wasn’t so afraid of hurting himself and getting glass stuck in his hand, he would’ve probably put his fist straight through that glass for reflecting such a weak, broken boy back at him. Red faced, tear streaked cheeks, messy, silver hair. He looked like a little boy all over again crying because he had fallen and scraped his knee, waiting for Baekhyun or Jongin to hold out their hand for him to take hold of. Holding open their arms to envelope Jimin in their warmth. No matter how much he wanted that, he knew he needed to pull himself together.

When he finally turned away from the mirror, he noticed that the knocks on the door and Baekhyun’s voice had ceased. But now, a deeper voice was speaking and instead of hard, demanding knocks, there were light taps. Jimin immediately recognized the voice as Chanyeol’s. He hadn’t known what came over him, but he found himself rushing towards the door.

“Is Baekhyun still out there?” He whispered against the door.

“No. He went outside to call Jongin.” There was a quick pause. “Please allow me to come in, Jimin.” Chanyeol’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. He was cooing as if trying to put a child to sleep. Jimin frowned in disgust at his tone.

“Stop talking to me as if I am some child!”

“I also speak to Baekhyun this way if he is feeling overwhelmed,” Chanyeol called through the thin, white wood of the door. The frown that had been plastered on Jimin’s face the entire time he was locked in the bathroom had finally dissipated. He knit his eyebrows instead. Baekhyun got overwhelmed? It shocked Jimin beyond his own understanding. But why had that single fact caused him to stop so suddenly? Why did it make him feel a bit better?

Without a second thought, he moved his hand to unlock the door. As soon as a click resounded from unlocking the switch on the knob, Chanyeol had quickly turned the golden knob and began attempting to push open the door frantically by throwing himself against it, but Jimin blocked the door with his foot and pushed his body into the door also.

“I don’t have on my gas mask.” 

Chanyeol stopped struggling for just a second, as if he was thinking. Jimin let up just a bit but Chanyeol pushed the door open anyway, easily overpowering Jimin, who had been surprised by the sudden action. Jimin hissed and stumbled back a bit, watching as Chanyeol slid through the narrow gap before shutting and locking the bathroom door behind him again. 

Jimin hadn’t bothered to hide his face and just kept his eyes on Chanyeol who had made his way over to where Jimin was sitting against the wall. He maneuvered around to sit cross legged in front of Jimin. Yet again, the way Chanyeol was treating him reminded him of a parent attempting to calm down a child. Jimin gritted his teeth in annoyance. 

“They’re worried about you.” 

Jimin quietly chuckled bitterly. “Of course they are.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at his small, childlike hands then grimaced.  _ That _ was the problem. His innocence. Jimin was basically still a child, growing physically but not mentally. He was protected from the realities of life by his parents, brothers, and walls of the penthouse. Jimin had to gnaw on his bottom lip to stifle his desire to cry but the tears slipped down his face anyway. He couldn't help but scoff at himself.

“I’m fucking weak, Chanyeol,” Jimin whispered, attempting to discreetly wipe the tear off his cheek but failing.

“How are you weak?”

Jimin really laughed this time specifically at Chanyeol’s feigned indiscretion. “I locked myself in the bathroom like some child. I’m sitting here crying like one too. I’m weak.” Chanyeol scowled heavily and scoffed. 

“And? So what if you locked yourself in the bathroom because you got overwhelmed? Who gives  _ a fuck  _ if your crying? You're here alone with me. No one outside of this hotel room knows what's going on here. And let’s not forget that you haven’t left the house in ten years, Jimin. Of course you'll react this way. Baekhyun told me that you overheard what happened to Eito. That’s a lot to handle on the second day you’ve officially been out the house. Hell, I would even be a bit shaken. Jongin and Kyungsoo are just… kinky fuckers that enjoy that type of stuff.”

That made Jimin laugh. For the first time, Chanyeol was able to actually see Jimin’s youthful smile because it was no longer hidden behind a bulky gas mask. He had an endearing fluff to his cheeks and small, plump, pink lips. Chanyeol involuntarily smiled back at the younger. 

“Your brothers are still human, you know? All of us are. We are just  _ smart.  _ We’re humans with power, knowledge, respect, and so much more that  _ no one  _ else has. But even with the entire country right here in the Lotus Syndicate’s possession, each and every one of us that work for this empire are human. Just like you Jimin. And when you understand and accept that, you gain even  _ more _ power.”

Jimin’s smile diminished and he exhaled loudly, blowing his cheeks out for exaggeration as he let what Chanyeol said sink in. 

“Do you really think I can do this? I’m not cut out for this. Do I look like a ruthless mafia boss to you?” 

“No, you don’t look like one. Most of us don't. But it’s in your blood. Not just because your parents are mafia bosses but because that’s just who you are. Who you’ve been for a long time.” Jimin narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol. At his tone in particular: as if Chanyeol knew something he didn't.

“What does that mean… who I’ve  _ been.”  _ Jimin continued pondering on what he meant, looking the older straight in the eye. He wondered if that had something to do with his gas mask. Or why he was stuck in the house for years in the first place. He was tempted to ask but knew he would get no direct answer.

Chanyeol only stared back with a blank expression. Despite the fact that his expression was practically inscrutable, Jimin had easily understood what Chanyeol was telling him without even opening his mouth. 

He was telling Jimin that he would find out what he meant soon enough. Jimin responded with a simple nod of his head. 

“I see why Baekhyun keeps you around. You’re really good at talking,” Jimin praised, not taking his eyes from Chanyeol’s.

“What can I say, I’m just really good with my mouth. And I’m sure Baekhyun would agree completely. There are other things I can do with my mouth that help him calm down.” Chanyeol winked suggestively, his lips spreading to show off an imperfect, crooked smile.

Jimin rolled his eyes and shared a loud laugh with Chanyeol that bounced pleasantly off of the walls of the bathroom. It was so refreshing to Jimin. This genuine laughter that belonged to someone other than his family. Laughter dying down, Jimin leaned back against the tiled wall and let his head fall back, exhaling deeply. 

He allowed his eyes to close in a quick moment of thought, dragging his tongue along his bottom lip. He could feel Chanyeol staring at him, so he slowly opened his eyes. Chanyeol was indeed glaring  at him with a look full of admiration. Jimin blushed.

He had wanted to say something and had even opened his mouth to do just that, but a series of knocks on the door stopped him. The locked knob wriggled furiously as the person on the other side attempted to wrench it open. 

“Jimin?” The rough, but gentle voice of Jongin called out worriedly from the other side. Chanyeol stood and moved to pick up the gas mask that landed next to the sink when Jimin pitched the stupid thing at the wall earlier. He held it out to Jimin, who smiled brightly in thanks. Chanyeol could get used to seeing that smile more often. 

“Yes?” Jimin responded to Jongin, adjusting the half faced mask onto the lower half of his face. 

“Open the door.” When the order left Jongin’s lips from the opposite side of the door, Jimin had hesitated, still sitting on the floor, but Chanyeol had obeyed immediately. Chanyeol stood and unlocked the door, pulling the door open fully, revealing Jongin and Baekhyun. From his place on the bathroom floor, Jimin could see a grumpy, irritated Kyungsoo, behind his brothers, standing in the middle of the room tapping away at his cell phone.

Jimin didn’t think too much of it as he stood and silently walked past Chanyeol and his brothers. He pretended like he hadn’t seen the angry but saddened look on Jongin and Baekhyun’s face when he simply walked past them without even a turn of his head to acknowledge them. As if they weren’t there at all. Jimin walked across the spacious, vast room to sit on one of the two beds. 

Kyungsoo averted his gaze up from his phone to Jimin, observing Jimin’s solemn demeanor closely as if he was reading him somehow.

Jimin didn’t know why he didn’t want to talk to his brothers, he just didn’t. He wanted them to go away so he could be alone. But that made Jimin feel even  _ weaker  _ than he did before, while crying on the bathroom floor. 

“Jimin-”

“What, Jongin,” Jimin snapped. Jongin was visibly taken aback by Jimin but still proceeded to sit next to his younger brother. Baekhyun sat on the other side of Jimin. Even though he was still looking down at his fingers, picking at his fingernails and refusing to acknowledge the two, Jimin still would never get tired of having his brothers on either side of him, comforting him. 

At the same time, he hated that. He was strong and independent and didn’t need his brother’s there to make him feel safe. He didn’t need protection and comfort.

So why did he almost burst into tears when Jongin and Baekhyun sat next to him on the bed and ran a comforting hand down his arm? He took a deep breath as he ignored the burn of his eyes as the tears brimmed. 

“What’s bothering you so much?” Baekhyun shared a worried glance with Jongin when Jimin didn’t answer. Kyungsoo furrowed his brow and pocketed his phone, glancing briefly at Chanyeol for a possible explanation. A single nod gave Kyungsoo all the confirmation he needed.

“I’m… overwhelmed. That’s all,” Jimin whispered. He refused to look up and face his brothers and their assistants as they stood there with power and strength while he cried. Weak and inferior.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Jimin was stunned by the suddenness of Jongin’s question but also by how  _ right  _ Jongin was. 

He had never felt such  _ fear  _ before and was drowning in how afraid he was. He had called it anxiousness but this feeling was much more intense than that. His heart wasn’t just pounding, it was burning and swelling. So much that Jimin, on several occasions, had to swallow thickly because he could feel the hot bile climbing up his throat. 

Jimin grimaces under his mask as he remembers standing outside of the warehouse where Jongin and Kyungsoo had ‘played’ with Eito and vomiting in a nearby trashcan until he was heaving and drowning in his own tears of confusion.

Jimin realized that he wasn’t anxious. He was terrified.

“Yeah.” He muttered. “I’m scared.”

“Do you know what you’re afraid of?” Baekhyun spoke up. 

“Everything.” Kyungsoo had spoken so suddenly that Jimin subconsciously looked up to meet Kyungsoo’s gaze that was fixed upon him. Kyungsoo’s eyes were unreadable as the three brothers looked for Kyungsoo to continue. “Right, Jimin? Not only are you afraid of not living up to the expectations you set for yourself but also of what happened today.” Kyungsoo questioned. But Jimin didn't answer. He had only continued staring, expressionless. “It has to be unsettling to witness someone die the first time you’ve left the house for so many years.”

With a sudden, loud shout of frustration, Jimin pushed himself off of the bed, ready to run anywhere that wasn’t there. This was all too much. But Baekhyun had grabbed for Jimin’s arm. “What are your expectations for yourself? Is it to be like Jongin and I-” Baekhyun tried. Much to his brothers’ surprise, Jimin began to snatch the gas mask off of his face for the second time that day. He knew he might be scolded intensely by their father but at the moment he didn’t care. Jimin wanted to be heard and listened to. Because he was  _ not _ a child with a limited vocabulary. 

He threw the gas mask onto the floor and let out an agonizing cry as he yelled.

“Yes! But I’m not built for this stuff! I am nothing like you two and I hate it! I’m a little boy that knows absolutely nothing about the mafia or life in general! Just lock me back in the house where I belong!” Jimin had started crying again, burying his face into his palms. At the sight, the other four men in the room went silent, listening to Jimin’s cries as they bounced somberly off the spacious room. Despite its spaciousness, Jimin felt like the walls were somehow going to close in and smother him. Feeling as if he was going to suffocate from the ‘smallness’ of the room, Jimin had started struggling to inhale a deep breath.

Baekhyun, who still had a loose grip on Jimin’s arm, pulled him back to sit on the bed once again, between him and Jongin. 

“What makes you think that?” Baekhyun sighed quietly. 

“Look at me! Don’t you see?”

“What about you, Jimin?” Jongin asked. “I don’t understand.” Jimin had wanted to stop talking and was praying that his brothers would leave him alone, but he knew that they would never leave when he was upset. Jimin went silent for a moment and looked around the room for no other reason than to get everything to be silent for a second. Then Chanyeol’s gaze caught his attention. Yet again, Chanyeol had communicated a plethora of words without even using his mouth. Just his eyes. That seemed to be a specialty of his.

He remembered Chanyeol’s words of encouragement. That he was human and was just like his brothers in that way. Jimin turned to meet Baekhyun’s gaze next.  _ Baekhyun gets overwhelmed too _ . Jimin could see it in his eyes that Chanyeol was right. Baekhyun was tired. His bright eyes were low and his body slouched as he smiled at Jimin.  _ Human.  _

Then he looked at Jongin. He was also exhausted. He was a bit more awake than Baekhyun but was still tired.  _ Human.  _

“I’m crying. I threw up like three times today. I can’t tell you how many times I was  _ going  _ to throw up. Plus, I am far from intimidating and sly like you are. I have feelings and I’m just… not fit to work in the mafia.”

“Bullshit,” Jongin said. “Is that what you think the Mafia is about? Being, somehow, more than human. Just killing and hurting people without a care in the world?” Jimin wanted to say ‘yes.’ Because that’s the images that filled his mind when he would sit in his large room at the penthouse pondering on what Baekhyun and Jongin could possibly be doing while he was at home, missing them.

“Because it’s not. Sometimes you have to suppress your feelings, but we  _ are  _ just as human as you, Jimin.”

“This mafia. This  _ empire.  _ It’s like a business. But we, just so happen, to be working in illegal affairs. It isn’t like all of the illegal things we are in charge of will somehow go away if the Lotus and the 7 Point weren’t here. There would still be drugs being manufactured, trafficked, and sold. Guns will still be imported and exported. All of it will still be here just not as organized. I like to think of it like we are doing the  _ good  _ thing in fact. We keep everything, that would usually be a mess, under control to ensure that no innocent citizens are hurt. Except people like Eito, of course. Consequences are so extreme because this ‘business’ itself is extreme. We don’t kill people on the daily. We don’t kill unless it’s necessary.” Jongin explains all of this with a hint of intimidation in his voice.  

“Also, Jimin,” Baekhyun said. “All of the reasons you said you aren’t fit to work in the mafia are related to your  _ physical attributes  _ and intimidation _.  _ I will be the first to tell you that your appearance is not what working in this business is about.” He paused. “Think about it like a game of cards. Or, preferably, a game of chess. It’s not about wearing your poker face while playing the game, it’s about  _ how  _ you play the game. Your knowledge, strategies, logic, and analysis. Who gives a shit about a poker face?” Baekhyun’s voice was hushed, slow, and calculated. Allowing Jimin to hang onto every word he says and internalize each word. One by one. Not just internalize it, but understand it.

“Your poker face can only take you so far,” Kyungsoo started, wearing an expressionless face of his own as he spoke. “It causes people to fear you but that’s about it. If you lose the game, then your poker face meant nothing. However, if you have knowledge, like Master Baekhyun said, you can win without a poker face. Strategies, calculations, logic, thoughtfulness. That is what you need to work in the mafia. You’ll gain respect, power, wealth, and most importantly  _ control _ .”

“In the Lotus Syndicate, knowledge is power, Jimin. Not intimidation and fear. But knowledge and calculations.” Chanyeol commented. That was what stuck with Jimin.  _ Knowledge is power.  _ He knew he would always remember that. Because while Jimin knew he would never be intimidating, he knew he could always be knowledgeable. Knowledge was infinite. If he could teach himself how to break down firewalls and security systems of the FBI for files, he could definitely be knowledgeable. And more.

“And Jimin.” Jimin turned to his left to look at Jongin. 

“Yes?”

“You’re out of the house now. You’re the third son of Asami and KangDae. Give it some time and you’ll be more powerful than you will ever understand. You may be a pawn in this game at the moment. But with the right moves and plays, all pawns have the potential to become something better.”

“I think you will become a queen,” Baekhyun added. Jimin could only blink. 

When all was said and done, Jimin let his gaze fall to the floor where his gas mask was lying, discarded, on the tanned carpet. Chanyeol noticed and kneeled to pick up the voluminous object by its straps and handing it to Jimin with a goofy smile. 

“Why are you putting it back on?” Jongin inquired. “You can keep it off until we leave tomorrow morning.” 

Jimin shrugged. He placed the mask on the mattress behind him and sighed. His brothers pulled him into a hug while Kyungsoo and Chanyeol sent smiles his way. Even though there was a foreign feeling in Jimin’s chest scolding him for needing so much love and comfort, he smiled nonetheless. 

_ Human.  _ That’s what the voice in his head was whispering.  _ Human. _

__   
  
  
  


 

 

“I’m hungry as hell!” Jackson sighed in exasperation as he tossed the files onto the wide desk he and Jaebum were working at in his office. Jaebum rolled his eyes as his second in command officer, Jackson, announced that he was hungry for the third time in the last thirty minutes or so. Jaebum had agreed with him the first time he obnoxiously announced his hunger, sighed the second time, and was ready to pitch his favorite ballpoint pen at him and go back to his own office to work in peace when Jackson said it a third time. 

Jaebum and Jackson were finishing up the last of the files needed to officially charge a young foster couple that was arrested for child abuse. Cases that dealt with the maltreatment of children were Jaebum’s least favorite to take on, but they gave him the biggest sense of achievement when they arrested the criminal. While they sent him on an emotional roller coaster sometimes, Jaebum would never quit doing his job and sacrifice the amazing feeling of saving children from going down a horrible path due to hidden pain and sadness.

The two of them had been working for the last two hours, and when Jaebum finished signing his name on the last file and putting it through the computer scanner, he leaned back in his chair and stretched out his rather short legs. 

“If you say you’re hungry one more time, Jackson, I swear I’m gonna fire you,” Jaebum sighed. Jackson rolled his eyes and placed his stack of freshly assessed and signed papers on the scanner after Jaebum. 

“Just admit it. You love me. Plus, no one is better at identifying clues than I am.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Jaebum scoffed even though Jackson was right. Jackson was very loud, blunt, and over the top, but he was great at his job. He wasn’t just given the title of second in command. Jackson  _ earned  _ that title. Not only bringing some type of life to the station (because Jaebum and Jinyoung weren’t as skilled at bringing liveliness to an environment like Jackson) but also identifying even the smallest of clues that would usually be overlooked and making it useful for the case, most of the time leading to a successful conviction.

He didn’t  _ like  _ Jackson- which wasn’t a surprise because Jaebum didn’t like most people- but he did love Jackson. As a coworker and a brother. 

“Last time I checked, boats float on water,” Jackson whispered but purposely saying it loud enough for Jaebum to hear. Jaebum glared at him as Jackson burst into a fit of chuckles.  _ I really wanna fire you.  _

“Um. Excuse me, Jaebum? Jackson?” A smooth voice called from the doorway. Both turning their attention to the voice, they both greeted the rookie with a slight nod of the head. 

“Anything you need, Youngjae?” Jackson asked.

“I came here to ask if you would like to join Jinyoung and I for dinner to tonight. We will be discussing some new information about the Lotus and the 7 Point.” Jackson didn’t need to be convinced any further because when food was mentioned, he had already decided that he was going to go. 

“You already know I’m in.” Jackson had already pushed his rolling chair back to stand and grab his belongings. Youngjae was now staring at Jaebum, silently asking if he was coming. No. Silently begging him to come. The corners of Youngjae’s eyes were tilted down, eyebrows slightly furrowed, and his bottom lip jutted out in a pout as he leaned against the wall. 

Jaebum hadn’t had any intentions to deny the invitation in the first place, but he wanted to play with Youngjae so he didn’t answer. He just stood and grabbed his belongings while Jackson rushed out of the room. “I’ll go wait in Jinyoung’s office,” he informed before leaving Youngjae and Jaebum alone. 

Jaebum watched as the pout that played on Youngjae’s lips intensified as he ignored the rookie’s presence. “Are you not going to come?” Youngjae’s voice was soft and gentle, but Jaebum didn’t miss the subtle hint of confidence and authority hidden in his tone. Grabbing his bag from the floor, cellphone clutched in his hand, he turned towards Youngjae. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to come.”

“You didn’t say you were either.”

“Do you want me to come, Youngjae?” Jaebum hadn’t flirted with anyone in quite a long time, let alone been in any type of relationship since his first years in the police force. The last person he had dated was a girl he had known since his childhood so it didn’t take much flirting to persuade her. But Jaebum found himself easily using a slightly teasing tone with Youngjae that the rookie definitely picked up on. 

“Yes. I really do,” Youngjae breathed out. His flirtatious words left his mouth so smoothly and simply that Jaebum was sure Youngjae flirted often.

“Then I’ll come.” Youngjae smiled brightly and beckoned Jaebum follow him out of the office with a curl of his finger.

“It took you assholes long enough,” Jinyoung complained standing by the front entrance waiting. Most lights had been turned off in the station so it was rather dim except for a few lights in other officer’s offices. 

Jaebum locked Jackson’s office behind him and ensured his own office door was locked before following Youngjae to where Jinyoung and Jackson were standing by the door. Jaebum returned the judging stare that Jinyoung was sending his way before pushing him out the door. 

“Stop testing my patience,” Jaebum said simply.

“Whatever. Meet at the Korean Barbeque in the middle of Seoul. You know which one I’m talking about, right?” The rest of them nodded as they walked off to their cars.

__

Jaebum had eaten very little compared to the other three men’s portions. But it was for several reasons. For one, Jackson was a loud eater and it annoyed Jaebum to the point that he almost lost his appetite and was very close to slapping Jackson but he resisted the urge. He was also consumed by the constant thought of what the Japanese police forces found on the mobs. He was curious to say the least. But as much as he would love to lie and falsely convince himself that his job was what was causing him so much apprehension, Jaebum knew that the main reason for his inability to focus, and even eat properly, was Youngjae. His frustration with Jackson and anxiousness for the new case wouldn’t cause his heart to beat a thousand times a minute and most definitely wouldn’t make his hands so sweaty that he couldn’t even handle his chopsticks correctly. It was because Youngjae couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself and direct his eyes anywhere but on Jaebum.

Conversation between the four of them seemed to come naturally while they were eating, but Youngjae took advantage of that, using that time as an opportunity to tease Jaebum in the most subtle of ways. Whether it be a hand on Jaebum’s upper thigh when all of them burst into fits of laughter or liking and biting at his own lips when he knew Jaebum was glancing at him, Youngjae was playing with Jaebum and Jaebum didn’t like it one bit.

The waitress picked up all of the stray dishes and asked if they wanted any dessert. Of course, Jackson was first to agree so they all just followed suit and ordered dessert too. When the table was clear, Jinyoung had gotten straight to business. 

“Okay. Now that we’re done, Youngjae and I recently received a few pictures and files from the Japanese police forces.” Jinyoung reached beside him to dig through his bag, all playfulness from the conversation not to long ago diminishing from his demeanor. Jinyoung pulled out a manilla folder that Jaebum thought was quite thick.

“Well damn, looks like they gathered lots of information from just a week,” Jackson commented.

“Not really. Some of this is from some of the other police stations that we work with here but it’s mostly just pictures. The 7 Point Syndicate didn’t go to Japan like we had predicted, but the Lotus did and it looks like they have someone new in their ranks.” Jinyoung began to lay out a few pictures. 

“Jinyoung and I looked over the pictures a few days ago when they were sent in but we need another opinion,” Youngjae said, all teasing put on hold which Jaebum was happy about. At first glance at the photographs, both Jaebum and Jackson could see what caused Youngjae and Jinyoung some disbelief. 

This guy in a full face gas mask.

Nothing about the man’s physical demeanor was intimidating- he was rather short- but the gas mask itself caused Jaebum enough discomfort. 

“A gas mask?” Jaebum questioned. 

“That’s what we couldn’t figure out either. Plus, we know he’s high in ranks because every picture they took of him showed him with Baekhyun and Jongin. But it makes no sense. We even tried comparing his body type to other pictures we have of other high ranking men and even low ranking men but nothing matched,” Jinyoung said, studying the pictures once again. 

“Don’t even get us started on that gas mask,” Youngjae nodded. “I have no idea what that could be for.”

Jaebum looked to Jackson for an answer, especially because this was one of Jackson’s specialties. With just a quick glance at Jackson, Jaebum knew that the gears in Jackson’s head were already turning. He was scratching at his chin and gnawing on his bottom lip as he stared at closely at the man in the gas mask. 

Jaebum had gotten lost in his thoughts as he praised Jackson until he felt a warm sensation cover his hand. A bit startled, he looked down at his hand that was resting on his left thigh and was surprised to find Youngjae’s hand lied on top of his. He let out a light cough, vaguely noticing the smirk that made its way onto Youngjae’s lips, yet Youngjae left his hand there. He played with Jaebum’s fingers before intertwining them. Jaebum didn’t deny the gesture. 

Taking his gaze away from Youngjae, he noticed that Jinyoung was glancing at the both of them, questioningly, with a raised eyebrow. Jaebum redirected his gaze to the rest of the pictures scattered about on the table.

“There is a few possibilities and explanations I’ve thought of,” Jackson finally spoke. It served as a perfect distraction for Jaebum who currently wanted to shrink into nothing. 

“Spit it out then,” Jinyoung sighed impatiently. 

“Shut up, alright,” Jackson shot back. “Anyway. Since there hasn’t been any calls about gasings or explosions, the gas mask can’t be for that. The only other reason this person would be wearing this is to conceal their identity. However, we also have to keep in mind that this person came out of absolutely  _ nowhere  _ and he is already being seen with the sons of the bosses. Even the assistants were rookies once before. The man has to be high within ranks if he’s with Baekhyun and Jongin. That means that not only do they trust this person to be around the heir all the time, they  _ care _ about him enough to want to keep his identity a secret.” 

“He could be a family member,” Jaebum uttered under his breath. Jinyoung and Youngjae nodded.

“Exactly.” Jackson hurriedly turned the picture he was staring at, towards the other three officers and tapped it pointedly. “I don’t know where he could of possibly come from but it’s is the only reason I could think of that would justify the fact that they would care enough to hide his identity and trust him to be around the two sons all the time-”

“Here’s your dessert,” the waitress smiled setting a plate of colorful Japanese mochi ice cream in front of them for them to share. “Thank you so much,” Youngjae smiled with a bow. Jackson had completely disregarded his thoughts and grabbed for one of the mochi before anyone else could. Jinyoung rolled his eyes and grabbed for his own.

“Let’s finish this conversation tomorrow in a team meeting,” Jaebum suggested still hyper aware of Youngjae’s fingers still intertwined with his. “I’ll send Mark a message about it right now.” Jinyoung pulled his phone from his pocket, taking a small bite of his pastry. 

“One o’clock sharp.”

__   
  


Jaebum was practically running to his car when they exited the restaurant. 

While the four of them were paying the dinner bill, Jaebum had suddenly received a text from Youngjae inviting him over to his apartment. For the fun of it, he had blatantly ignored the text much to Youngjae’s discontent. 

It wasn’t until they were all heading for the exit that Jaebum sent a text to Youngjae, telling him that he would most definitely love to come over. He chuckled to himself when Youngjae attempted to hide a blush of excitement. 

On his way to his car, Jinyoung called out to him so he slowed his pace to a stroll in lieu of running.  “You and the rookie, huh?” Jinyoung questioned with a sly smirk.

“You and Jackson?” Jaebum asked in return, his hard exterior not breaking in the slightest. But Jaebum noticed Jinyoung’s smirk drop almost immediately and his eyes widened. The relationships within the station and other teams weren’t really a secret to Jaebum. Part of the reason was because Jaebum was just really observant, but it was also because no one was really discreet about it so anyone really could tell.

“That’s not the point,” Jinyoung frowned.

“Well what is the point?” 

“That you need to watch out for Youngjae.” 

Jaebum frowned and walked even slower. He shook his head in disbelief and chuckled bitterly. “Jinyoung, shut up,” he growled lowly. “He’s a rookie. What could he possibly do? What are you trying to say anyway?”

“Remember, Choi Jae-Wook? That’s his father… Youngjae is bound to be a target of the 7 Point as revenge. No doubt about it, Jaebum.”


	5. Better of The Two

“-off, Hobi,” Yoongi groaned, voice deeper and rougher in lieu of its usual smoothness due to the fact that he had just woken up. He draped his forearm over his eyes to block himself from the sunlight that was beaming in through the opened curtains. He scolded himself for leaving them that way. 

But Hoseok was the one he should be scolding for it.

When Yoongi returned home last night, he had decided to stare out the window over the dark, glowing skyline for a little while before he had made his way to bed, something that he did frequently after a long, stressful day. But Hoseok decided to enter, bringing Yoongi’s favorite champagne-Krug Vintage Brut 2004-and two wine glasses with him.

“You seemed a bit stressed when you walked the door so I decided that we should have a drink,” Hoseok had said, his true intentions being so very obvious just by the tone of his voice. The fondness and light concern in his voice hadn’t been able to mask the lust dripping from each word. Mostly because it was Yoongi he was speaking to. And Yoongi knew Hoseok best.

The sexual tension lingered and grew considerably as they downed the entire bottle of champagne, flirting breathily and looking over the buildings of Seoul together. Just a small portion of what the 7 Point Syndicate had in their possession. 

It was that way until midnight made a sudden appearance and Yoongi hadn’t seemed to want to hold himself back anymore. He had practically tackled Hoseok to the floor when the last drop of champagne was gone and the crescent moon was highest in the sky. Closing the curtains had been the last thing on his mind, the first thing being pleasing the younger as they selfishly indulged in each other against the floor to ceiling window.

Now here he was, pissed that the sunlight was basically torturing his eyes while Hoseok was snoozing peacefully on Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi hated cuddling mostly because it interfered with his sleep, and while Hoseok was aware of that, he cuddled Yoongi whenever they slept together. Yoongi would love to be upset with him and kick the man out when they were done, but he had developed a rare emotion for Hoseok that he didn’t really want to put a name to. 

Naming it was acknowledging it. Acknowledging the feelings would only make his life harder.

Yoongi waited a few seconds for Hoseok to respond but only a guttural snore reached his ears. He began pushing at Hoseok’s shoulder roughly, who responded with a deep, annoyed groan.

“What, Gi?” Hoseok complained.

“I said get off. I need to close those stupid curtains that you didn’t bother to close last night.” Hoseok obediently rolled off of Yoongi’s chest to lay on his back.

“You could use a little sunlight,” Hoseok muttered before shifting around in the bed to get comfortable again. “Just saying.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi said, throwing his legs over the side of his bed and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He slowly stood, massaging his sore lower back in the process. He could thank Hoseok for that.

Waddling over to the curtains, he harshly pulled the curtains over the huge window, hard enough to pull the entire fucking curtain down but Yoongi didn’t seem to be fazed by it at all. Once he turned around, he noticed that Hoseok had easily slipped back into unconsciousness and wished he could do the same. Usually he would have but he smelled the overwhelming wafts of Jin’s cooking seep into the room from under the door and into his nose. 

When given the choice to go back to sleep or eat Jin’s food, Yoongi would pick eating, of course, because of the simple fact that no one cooked like Seokjin did. Sleep could wait at times like these.

Yoongi slipped on his sweats and a white tee he was sure belonged to Jungkook because it was practically falling off of his shoulder and groggily left the room. He descended the curved, marble black staircase, walking through the living room and into their kitchen. Seokjin was in the kitchen alone, but the dozens of papers sprawled strategically out across the granite top island and the thick rimmed glasses lying next to them confirmed that Namjoon had most definitely been in here not that long ago. Yoongi watched Seokjin quickly move around the vast kitchen, tending to different pots and skillets on the ceramic stove, something in both ovens, vegetable on the cutting board, while humming a small tune to himself.

Seokjin was completely engulfed in his own world and didn’t see when Yoongi leaned against the bar that served as a wall divider as well to watch him.

But Yoongi noticed something about Seokjin: he was more tense than usual, his head tilted downward. Almost as if he was sad. 

“Is this still about the scar on your face?” Yoongi questioned. 

After the run-in at the casino a few weeks ago, Seokjin had a few bruises on his body, nothing he couldn’t handle, but what bothered Seokjin the most was that the nasty cut on his cheek hadn’t faded away yet. 

Namjoon constantly ensured him that it would go away and even if it didn’t fully diminish, Seokjin was still as handsome as he had always been. But that didn’t make Seokjin feel any better and it wasn’t. Now the oldest of the house was frequently walking around with his head low.

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Seokjin chuckled quietly. “This ain’t about some stupid scar on my face. It’s about the fact that I let those assholes lay a finger on me. Deep enough to leave a scar.”

“That just might go away, Jin,” Yoongi pressed. Seokjin finally raised his head up to look at Yoongi, disregarding his task of cooking for a short while to glare menacingly at Yoongi. So Yoongi stared just as intensely, standing his ground.

“But it might not,  _ Yoongi.  _ I don’t have time for the false hope you and Namjoon are trying to push into my head, alright. My face is part of my power. You know that.” 

“That scar gives you even more power. Shows you have experience and you aren’t just some pretty face around here.”

At that, Seokjin smirked at Yoongi before lowering his head and turning around once again to turn off the stove burners. “Thanks, Gi. Come over here and help me finish up breakfast before Namjoon gets out of the shower. The last thing I need is for him to want to help me.” Jin sighed, waving Yoongi over. 

Yoongi scoffed but obeyed without any further complaint, going to check on the rice, stirring it a bit.  

“So, what’re those papers over there for,” Yoongi asked gesturing towards the papers spaced out on the countertop with that precise methodicalness that only Namjoon could do with just a few pieces of paper. 

“Jongdae came over this morning to give Namjoon a few files that didn’t look right to him and asked Joon to take a second look at it.”

Namjoon and Yoongi trusted Jongdae almost as much as they trusted Taehyung and Hoseok. The two doubted his abilities at first, but thanks to Jin asking- more like demanding- that Jongdae be given a place in the 7 Point, the man successfully gained all three of the sons’ trust. 

He was also very vigilant and perceptive, meaning that if Jongdae believed that there was something off about those files, then there it was almost guaranteed that there actually  _ was  _ something amiss about them.

“I’ll take a look at them in a second.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. The both of them knew that Namjoon didn’t like Yoongi getting involved in business that he didn’t approve because they all knew how sociopathic and power hungry Yoongi could get when dealing with the mafia business. Yoongi understood that. He agreed that Namjoon was a bit more rational when dealing with these things.

Catching Seokjin’s glare, Yoongi smirked as he took the pot of rice and skillet of steamed eggs off of the stove top and to the dining room. 

“Save us all a headache and just wait for Joon.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me and let me do my thing.” Yoongi called authoritatively from the large dining room, adorned with many decorations that were either black or red in color. Joon claimed that those colors caused him great ease.

Seokjin followed soon after with two steaming bowls in hand as he placed them in the middle of the large table with the rest of the food. Deeming the table perfectly set, he slowly but tightly gripped Yoongi’s wrist. A hint of passive aggressiveness to it. A menacing calmness.

Yoongi looked into Jin’s piercing, imperious gaze that juxtaposed perfectly with the slight smile playing upon his lips. Of course Yoongi wasn’t intimidated, but that wasn’t Seokjin’s goal. Scaring Yoongi isn’t what he wanted to do.

That’s not how the game is played.

Jin wanted Yoongi to respect him and listen to what he said without having to use fear as a factor. He doubted he would be able to get Yoongi to fear him in the first place. He loved Yoongi. He really, really did, but sometimes this conflict was inevitable.

“I said… Wait. For. NamJoon.”

But this was Yoongi he was talking to. Not Jungkook who was a bit brattish at times but had no problem with taking advice and following orders. Yoongi was the one who had been controlled for the first years of his life and had grown to hate any type of authority that wasn’t Bon-Hwa and Namjoon. 

However, this time. This time, Yoongi won’t put up a fight. Just this once, he’ll listen.

“Fine.” Yoongi snatched his wrist away from Jin, who easily let go, his lips tugging down in a frown. “I won’t look. I’ll follow your orders this time, but don’t expect it too often.” 

“Jin? Love, where are you?” Namjoon’s voice echoed from in the kitchen. Seokjin looked Yoongi over once more, slow and unprecedented, before he turned to go back to the kitchen. Yoongi followed. 

“I’m here, love. Yoongi and I were just setting the table.” 

Namjoon was sitting back at the island tending to the papers once again with those glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose that made his eyes look way too small. He stood to tenderly kiss Jin before turning his attention to Yoongi. 

“Glad you’re up. I need you to look at these files with me. I need another opinion before I make any moves or decisions,” Namjoon said, skimming over the files once again. Yoongi, a bit too quickly, grabbed the papers from Namjoon.

“I’ll go tell everyone breakfast is ready,” Jin said. He sauntered out of the room, a little slower than usual. That was no doubt just a show for Namjoon. Yoongi grimaced as he sat in the stool next to Namjoon at the island.

Just a second of skimming and Yoongi could already see the major mistake that bothered Jongdae and Namjoon so much. It bothered him too. 

The exportation and importation of weapons have always been the 7 Point Syndicate’s main income, bringing in the highest profit each month. This department in particular had connections all over the world, hence the fact that Taehyung was in America for that exact reason. There was usually inconsistencies found within their prostitution ranks and sometimes their assassinations don’t always go smoothly, but that wasn’t the case for weapon exportation. That was their most consistent department and was something their father had put lots of time and money into making it as such.

So what Yoongi couldn’t understand was why there was an  _ increase  _ in exportation of guns and weapons but a  _ decrease  _ in profit. “What the hell is this about?” Yoongi slid the papers back over to Namjoon. 

“That’s why I needed you to look this over with me. This never happened before daddy said he was planning retire. You think there’s some shit going down over there with some of daddy’s men since daddy’s leaving?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. Namjoon knew damn well there was foul play going on here. There was no questions about that matter. 

“You know there’s something going on, Joon-”

Suddenly, the sound of their front door opening caught their attention. “I’ve returned!” Taehyung yelled, his deep voice hoarse from presumably sleeping on the plane and in the car.

“And Taehyung is  _ exactly  _ who we need to talk to for any real answers,” Yoongi finished. It wasn’t long after Taehyung obnoxiously announced his arrival that Jungkook’s heavy footsteps were heard as he descended each step. Usually, the boy walked lightly, no one would even hear Jungkook walk into the room normally. But in the mornings, Jungkook dragged his feet and caused an earthquake with every damn step he took.

Because of the open concept of the first floor of the suite, Yoongi and Namjoon could see Jungkook grouchily slumping down the staircase with Seokjin and Hobi close behind from where they were sitting at the bar. Until he saw Taehyung that is. 

“You’re back.” The boy gave a tired smile while he descended the rest of the stairs to wrap himself in Taehyung’s frame. Yoongi could vaguely see Jungkook’s lips move and Taehyung’s lips tug up into a smirk. 

It caught Yoongi’s eye, but pushed it to the back of his slightly foggy mind.

“It’s nice to have you back, Tae,” Jin waved domestically. Hoseok just grunted his greeting, still half asleep.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi called. “We need you in here for a second.” Instead of Taehyung coming into the kitchen like they expected, Jin entered.

“Namjoon, are you not going to come eat?” Jin asked impatiently. 

“We’ll be there in a second-.”

“I worked  _ hard _ this morning to make breakfast and you’re just gonna let it get cold? That’s how you show your appreciation when I made breakfast because you guys had a rough night?”

“Jin, I  _ said-” _

“Namjoon,  _ I said _ come eat. Now.” With that, Jin turned on his heel and stormed away and presumably into the dining room. Yoongi glanced at Namjoon in his peripheral and watched him take a silent deep breath before placing both hands on the island and pushing the stool back to allow himself space to stand.

Yoongi smirked at Namjoon’s hooded eyes as a result from slight irritation. 

No one talked to Namjoon like that. Not even their father because Namjoon didn’t  _ let _ anyone talk to him with any authority. He was the heir. The men and women of the 7 Point Syndicate talked to him like the inferiors they were. That’s why men prefer to stay silent when Namjoon demanded something, just to avoid saying anything that would tick the heir off. Because getting on Namjoon’s bad side was quite the easy task.

But Jin- Namjoon’s sweetheart, his  _ princess-  _ he was different. What Jin wanted, Jin got. God forbid Jin ever made a request out of anger. No one would know what would happen, they just knew  _ something  _ would happen. And no one in his path would be safe.

Namjoon had always had a soft spot for Jin after he found Jin fighting against three men for his life and the last bit of innocence in an alleyway more than five years ago. 

He respected Seokjin with every working bone in his body and would do anything for the older. Even put business aside to eat the breakfast the man cooked on his behalf.

But as soon as Jin left, Taehyung entered with an awkward but amused glint in his eyes, obviously aware of Jin’s outburst. His fingers nervously fumbled with the knot of his tie yet his face was as nonchalant as they come.

“Guessing we’ll be eating first, right boss?” Even Taehyung’s tone sounded natural and unbothered. He just had to gain control of those jittery fingers of his. Namjoon only chuckled.

“Yup,” Yoongi said, following Namjoon precisely. “We’ll meet in the lounge after breakfast. Make sure you tell Hoseok twice. He’s probably still half asleep.”

“Got it,” Taehyung said.

 

****

 

To Yoongi, Taehyung looked a little more than just spaced out. He was practically on the verge of unconsciousness while attempting to shovel some food into his mouth during breakfast. There was no doubt that Taehyung would need to rest for about three days to get over the jet lag. 

Hoseok volunteered to clean off the table as Jin and Namjoon had a quiet conversation in hushed voices before reminding everyone to meet in the lounge. While Jungkook helped Taehyung out of the dining room, Yoongi decided to pass by the kitchen with Hoseok.

Hoseok had successfully placed all of the dishes into the dishwasher and was currently topping a flute with wine. “Was the bottle of champagne last night not enough?” Yoongi teased, going to stand next to Hoseok. 

“Just need a little something to relax me before our little meeting in the lounge. Don’t worry, last night was most satisfying and was more than enough.” Hoseok winked as he raised the glass to his lips to take a long gulp of the red wine. Half of the glass of empty now. 

“I know. You were very vocal about it.” 

Hoseok met Yoongi’s suggestive glare with just as much intensity. Yoongi raised a pale but strong hand to take the flute from Hoseok’s hand. The wine was red like velvet. Red like the blood Yoongi loved so much. Yoongi raised the glass to his nose, humming in delight at the sweet smell. It smelled oddly like his sister, a perfume she would wear. 

Yoongi gulped down the rest of the wine. Hoseok smirked.

“Let’s go. Hopefully it won’t be too long and I’ll be able to satisfy you in return,  _ Yoongi _ .” Yoongi could feel the threat and authority in Hoseok’s words and as his name rolled off of Hoseok’s lips. This type of authority and control, Yoongi didn’t mind.

  
  
  


 

 

“Okay. I know you need sleep, Taehyung, but Yoongi and I need some answers,” Namjoon said when Yoongi and Hoseok finally entered. He reached over to hand the files over to Taehyung who was sitting next to Jungkook on the plush, red velvet sofa, but Jungkook took the files instead.

Taehyung, who was slouched against the armrest of the sofa, immediately straightened in response to Namjoon’s demand for answers. The command was so short in words yet so imperious in word choice. Straightforward and to the point. That was too unlike Namjoon to only mean ‘answers.’

Namjoon had too many layers to him. Too many dimensions to his thoughts. His mind was as complex as they come; his orders, decisions, and plans were always planned and articulate. Nothing about Namjoon was simple.

So when Namjoon simply said “explain,” everyone’s blood ran cold in their veins. 

When ‘we need answers’ was all that left Namjoon’s lips- and not to mention Jin’s gaze fixed directly on him- Taehyung could’ve combusted from anxiousness. He was grateful that he was good at concealing his thoughts; Taehyung remembered that he just had to hide his hands. Because they were most definitely trembling. 

Taehyung leaned over Jungkook’s shoulder to look over the files. These files were from the department he was in charge of: exportation and importation of weapons. Jungkook flipped through the files listing the names of his men, the weapon count, and statistics until the they both were looking at the last page. 

“What?” Jungkook grimaced. Taehyung was sure they had seen the same thing. The profit had decreased this month and the sales had increased. 

“I-I don’t know what happened here, sir.”

“I know that. You’ve been in America for the last few weeks,” Namjoon said, taking notice of Taehyung’s nerves. No one in this house called him ‘Sir.’

“We wanted to know what possibly could be going on,” Yoongi followed. “What you might have in mind to explain this.”

Taehyung thought for a second, racking his brain for anything peculiar he had heard of while he was away. This proved to be harder than usual because Taehyung’s mind was literal mush right now, begging to be given a rest.

“Oh,” Taehyung recalled. “Our usual clients in America didn’t order as many weapons as they usually do. There is a possibility that this is just a one time thing or there is just a shortage in their business but I thought you should know. There was also another thing that was of more importance though. While I was away, one of my men called and reported some suspicious activity going on in the system database. I called Hoseok to scan the system and possibly find any trace of foul play.”

“And what was found?” Namjoon fixed his glasses that had began to slide down the bridge of his nose. 

“There was a faint trace of someone’s else system there,” Hoseok supplied. He was sitting on the armrest of the black leather chair Yoongi was currently sitting in. “I was able to track it for awhile but I hit a dead end. But it was definitely an outside source.” 

“Someone could’ve hacked his department,” Jungkook added. 

“It couldn’t have been someone from the inside because then there would be no tracks left,” Namjoon pondered out loud. 

“There’s a large possibility we were hacked. Probably taking away some of our profit made this month. That could explain the drop in profit despite good sales.”

“But someone could’ve also hacked the system in a different way,” Yoongi offered, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip before biting on it briefly. “It’s also possible that we just had low sales this month, it matches with Taehyung’s reports from America. It’s possible that someone hacked into the databases to make it seem as if more guns were sold when in reality, the guns were stolen.”

The room was silent for a moment. 

“That’s a pretty backwards way of thinking about it, Yoongi,” Jin said with a raised eyebrow. While his tone was laced with disbelief, Jin’s facial expression showed that he was actually considering Yoongi’s explanation. 

“Well in the mafia, you can’t really think straightforward,” Taehyung added. 

“Either way. It means that it hadn’t come from someone in Taehyung’s department. If it did, then there wouldn’t be any traces to follow. So at least we can confirm that the threat is coming from the outside.” This time, Namjoon pushed his glasses to the tip of his nose to pinch at the bridge in thought. 

“I would barely call this a threat, Joon” Yoongi scoffed. Hoseok looked down at Yoongi with a frown, but Yoongi ignored it. 

“Who do you think it could be?” Jungkook asked, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. By that gesture alone and the tone of his voice, low in feigned thought, let them all know that Jungkook was just as aware about who it was as they were.

“We know it’s the Lotus, Kook,” Yoongi sighed. “I mean who else has men that skilled in hacking to do this  _ and  _ not leave behind any trackable traces.”

“What about those streetgangs. There’s a bunch of those around Seoul.”

“That’s exactly what they are. Streetgangs, nothing more. Those gangs do nothing more than rep their gang and shoot at each other. Do you really think they are a threat of any kind.” Jin mocked.

“What about the agreement between Daddy and Kang-Dae. I thought they agreed to keep the peace? The Lotus wouldn’t just break the agreement like that.” 

“That’s between Daddy and him. Not me and Jongin,” Namjoon easily countered. He was suddenly interested and confused about why Jungkook seemed so defensive. Making a billion excuses for, not just anyone or anything but for the Lotus Syndicate, of all things. Yoongi noticed it too and it caused him some discomfort. It even made him a bit angry at Jungkook for his inability to think and make decisions without being so empathetic. 

It rendered Yoongi both perplexed and cynical of the youngest as he drummed his on the leather armrest of the chair.

“What’s the matter, Kook?” Jin’s voice was soft and motherly, it always was when he was speaking to Jungkook. No matter what the situation and or the circumstances, Seokjin was always like the mother that Jungkook never had. Yoongi had to admit, Jin was somewhat of a mother to him too. 

“I just… have a really bad feeling about this. The peace between us and the Lotus has been for the best for some years now.”

“Well this was going to happen sooner or later, Kook. And I think it’s time to show the Lotus fucking Syndicate which of us are the better of the two.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

As soon as Jimin shut off the warm water spewing from the shower head, he was met with the sound of Jongin yelling Baekhyun’s name followed by something else that he couldn’t hear as clearly. Jimin pat himself dry before going to look into the mirror at himself.

This had become an unusual habit of Jimin’s: looking at himself in the mirror after his showers. He’d focus on his silver hair first, the way it framed his face perfectly and complimented his brown eyes. He’d then focus on the youthfulness of his features, both scolding and appreciating them. He’d lastly look into his eyes as if he was trying to communicate with the boy in the mirror.

Asking him a million questions about who he was, who he was meant to be, and who he wanted to be.

But the silver-haired, innocent boy would only stare blankly back at him, telling Jimin that he in fact didn’t know either.

Jimin pulled on a black shirt and a pair random pair of pajama pants on before exiting the bathroom. The chill air that hit his skin as soon as he stepped out gave him chills and he shivered violently. The freezing marble tiles beneath his feet was in no way helping him warm up. 

He rushed to his dressers and pulled out a pair of socks to slip on. Even with the socks on, another chill ran through him, but much to his discontent, Jimin knew he’d just have to wait until he warmed up a bit. 

When he did open his bedroom door to go and find his brothers, he was easily met, yet again, with Jongin’s voice. This time he hadn’t yelled but Jongin was still talking rather loudly. 

“Baekhyun, this is the third time this happened. I’m not gonna let this slide anymore. Some of our men were killed this time.”

“ _ Some.”  _

“Any at all is too damn much. It’s time we take action before it’s too late.” Jimin furrowed his eyebrow, slowly making his way down the hall, sliding along the flawless white walls and stopping right at the doorway of their office. 

“I understand it’s the third time but just starting a full blown war with the 7 Point without having any guarantee that this was their doing wouldn’t be good on our part either.” Baekhyun’s voice was low but peremptory nonetheless. “You are still the heir, Jongin. Plus, we still have no idea who is doing this. It could anybody. Going off of your assumptions could lead the Lotus in the wrong direction. We need more information about this. Assess the situation before acting recklessly… remember?” Their mother’s words.

There was a quick pause. Jimin took that time to say something and make his presence known. 

He was no stranger to the mafia now but he most definitely was far from being fully acquainted with the business either. 

For the last month, Jimin had been pretty much learning the basics of being part of an empire. Remembering names of important people, learning how to read the significant files, deciphering encrypted emails and codes, and even how to handle a few firearms. He was put under the watch of Kim Minseok who was also in head of hacking, technological engineering, and explosives in the Lotus Syndicate. 

If Jimin was a genius with technology, then Minseok was a fucking mastermind. There was nothing the man couldn’t trace or hack, no security wall he couldn’t get pass, no explosive he couldn’t detonate. Jimin had wanted to absorb every word the man said and usually did, especially Minseok’s confidence. 

Minseok had just as much of a boyish appearance as Jimin did, with wide, innocent eyes, and a crooked, tilted smile. But even with all physical attributes seemingly against him, Minseok had the confidence and skill to earn his respect. The respect that Jongin and Baekhyun spoke so highly of. 

Jimin wanted it. Yearned for it. And nothing was going to stop him from getting it.

Jimin was still soft spoken and quite emotional; he doubted that would ever change, but he was selfassure enough to include himself in the conversations about business that his brothers usually left him out of.

“What’s the problem?” Jimin walked into the room and moved one of the black and grey cushioned chairs from against the walls and placed it in front of Jongin’s desk. Baekhyun was currently sitting on the edge of the desk while Jongin was lounging back in his rolling chair, laptop opened and angled between the two of them. 

Baekhyun and Jongin shared a glance before sighing deeply. “Some of our men were making a delivery of cocaine and it went completely array. They were ambushed and this time, some of our men were killed. Most got out alive, but this is still bad. There’s no doubt that the police are all over the scene and we have the attention on us now,” Jongin explained.

“That was probably the point of the ambush,” Jimin said. “Throw us off our game. Put us in a panic. Does mama and daddy know about this?”

“Yeah. They’re on their way actually. Should be coming pulling up.” Jongin pushed himself towards the window to look out of it. He stretched his neck somewhat, searching the front yard, or what he could see of it, for any sight of their parents’ Rolls Royce Ghost. He grumbled complaints to himself when he hadn’t caught sight of it. 

“Anyway, we need to figure out what we’re gonna do and how we’re gonna fucking assert our dominance again.”

“I told you already, Jongin. It’s not in our best interest to just place all the blame on the 7 Point Syndicate, even if there is a large possibility that it is them. You’ve been in this mafia business as long as I have, you know that a large percentage of possibility doesn’t mean 100% guaranteed. We need to _ ensure  _ 2000% that this is the 7 Point Syndicate behind this.”

This talk of percentages caused Jimin to tense up as he remembered the game played Jongin and Kyungsoo played with Eito. That day he had learned exactly what percentages were in this mafia. Even if Eito had a 90% chance of picking the correct barrel that night, there was  _ always  _ room for him to get it wrong because it wasn’t a 100% chance. 

Probability.

Percentages were a measure of probability. And the Lotus Syndicate didn’t accept probabilities, possibilities, or maybes. Never. They wanted answers that were factual and backed up by assessed information. That’s why Jongin needed Baekhyun, like their father needed their mother.

KangDae taught them how to act when put into a tough situation, but Asami taught them how to listen, think, and act later when there was time for such things. 

Jongin was like KangDae in this situation while Baekhyun was like their mother. Jimin was stuck in between, possessing both all and none of their qualities. 

“And how will we do that, Baek?”

“We send someone in. Infiltrate their headquarters, find out their intentions, and act from there. Remember that there isn’t a time limit here.”

“But there  _ is _ . This is the third time evidence of foul play was found. This time was not just incredibly obvious but was a threat to us. They interfered with our drug trafficking, our top department. Just imagine what they are gonna do next.”

“Well we better send this person in soon,” Baekhyun commented. 

“But you can also take charge without retaliating completely. Let whoever this is know that they are never gonna get away with it again and that we are taking drastic fucking measures against what their doing,” Jimin added, straightening up his posture to create a demeanor of confidence.

Jongin smirked at Jimin with an undeniable sense of pride to his gaze and expression. “You’re right, Jiminie,” Baekhyun smiled rubbing at his head with the heel of his hand. “So Jongin… Who’re we gonna send to the 7 Point?” 

Jimin immediately began thinking also, thinking over his mental list of men that he had memorized. Minseok was an amazing choice but he was needed here. Kim Junmyeon could also be an acceptable choice but he was literally over all departments when Baekhyun and Jongin was unavailable. He was something of a secondary leader, working closely with Minseok. 

While Jimin was deep in thought, Jongin and Baekhyun had both set their glares on him, looking over him closely. Thinking over everything the youngest brother had learned in this past month and how well he had taken in this new role and responsibility, Jimin had always been really good at acquiring new skills and areas of expertise, but what they weren’t sure of is how well he worked under pressure.

Because this job was going to be more than just difficult and mentally devastating for just a pawn. But to make Jimin a queen, he needed to be able to get on the other side of the board, conquering it, and  _ earn  _ his respect and promotion on the board.

Baekhyun and Jongin looked back to one another and exhaled deeply. They nodded once. They both believed that Jimin could do it. 

  
  
  


 

It was safe to say that their mother was completely against the idea of Jimin not only leaving but going into the 7 Point headquarters. Jongin, Baekhyun, nor Jimin had ever seen their mother so angry. Even showing this much emotion was rare. The veins were bulging against her tanned but reddened skin of her forehead. Her voice was dangerously hoarse as she reasoned and fought with KangDae, refusing to back down. 

If Jimin hadn’t been so shocked, he probably would’ve noticed the tears brimming in his mother’s eyes.

“No! And that’s final! No, I won’t let you send Jimin anywhere. Send Junmyeon or Minseok, I don’t care. Anyone that isn’t my Jimin.” Asami slammed her hand hard against the wall, almost tearing through the layers of plaster. KangDae was standing a good distance away from her to avoid being hit but was trying his best to console her, voice firm yet soft.

“Asami, you have to understand that Jimin is an adult now. He wants to prove that he is worthy and this would be the perfect situation to allow him to do something that matters to the Lotus.”

“He  _ is  _ worthy, Kang Dae! He doesn’t need to put himself in the utmost of danger to prove that.”

“Jimin is the only one who can do this, Asami, please!” KangDae finally closed the distance between him and his wife and grabbed for her hands, but she raised a hand, pulling it back as if she was going to bring her hand down across his face. 

Baekhyun, Jongin, and Jimin froze as they awaited the impact. Even KangDae did but-

“Mama please,” Jimin said suddenly. Almost immediately, Asami’s face softened into a heavy frown as she dropped her hand to her side. Looking into her somber gaze hurt KangDae yet he kept an expressionless face as Asami looked directly in his eyes.

“I want to do this. I  _ can  _ do this, Mama.”

Asami sighed and looked over at Jimin, who was still sitting in the cushioned chair he had settled into earlier before they arrived. “Fine, Jimin. If this is what you want, then you can.” She then shifted her gaze from Baekhyun, to Jongin, and finally her husband.

Silence.

“However, heed my words. If I can’t bring Jimin back… I  _ will  _ raise hell. Not just on the 7 Point, but the Lotus, and  _ all  _ of Seoul. No one will be safe, you can guarantee that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there is some Yoonseok in this chapter and all but I can reassure you that this is still a Yoonmin focused fic. I promiseeeee so please don't hate me for adding Yoonseok. 
> 
> Next chapter is gonna come pretty soon okayy, I promise. 
> 
> Now take a deep breath and smile. Remember you're amazing, loved, and incredibly important.
> 
> Love you!


	6. D Day

“Also, you have to be authoritative at all times. That’s having self confidence even if you might be wrong, got it?” 

Jimin gave a single, firm nod of his head, looking directly into Jongin’s brown eyes. “You are our artifice. You must be clever and cunning despite being that innocent boy you seem to be on the outside. You  _ are  _ an artifice just by simply existing, don’t you see. It’s in your nature. You don’t even have to try.” Despite Jongin’s uplifting tone, Jimin couldn’t help but feel even more discouraged than before. His heart clenched painfully.

Jimin resisted the sudden urge to exhale deeply in response for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour he’d been in Jongin’s room discussing the mission.

“You think so?” Jimin involuntarily ran his short, stubby fingers through the silver strands of his hair, a sign of vulnerability on Jimin’s part that Jongin definitely noticed.

“I  _ know  _ so. Now repeat what I just told you,” Jongin stated assertively, crossing his arms across his chest and allowing his head to fall back against the warm colored plaster of the walls. Jimin took note of the way his older brother stood, talked, and carried himself: authoritative and prim, yet ferocious all at the same time. To Jimin, being able to exude those traits, especially with a tender face like Jongin’s, just had to be some type of constantly practiced skill because even as Jimin attempted to subtly match his brother’s demeanor, he failed miserably.

“You said…Y-you-” Jimin froze up, all of his thoughts getting lodged in his throat. He scrutinized himself silently. Jimin knew this information like the back of his hand and he grew increasingly frustrated with himself for not being able to show what he knew. Knowing what was coming, Jimin gave into his desire and exhaled deeply and looked towards the carpet of Jongin’s bedroom floor, curling his toes tightly. 

“Nope. You lost your power just now,” Jongin scolded pointedly, pushing himself off of the tan wall to advance on Jimin who was sitting rigidly and stiffly on the foot of Jongin’s bed. “You can’t hesitate. Don’t think too much. Because when you think, you doubt yourself, and you end up like this. Stuck and frozen. Something like this could have you dead in a matter of seconds.” Jongin kneeled in front of Jimin and gestured for Jimin to look up from the carpet and into his eyes. Jimin blinked several times, so disheartened as he felt the burn brimming behind his eyes. This was  _ not  _ the time to cry. 

Jimin obeyed and shifted his attention to Jongin, his brother’s eyes still piercing and formidable, even when he noticed that Jimin’s wide, boyish eyes watering and reddening. Jimin sucked in a cold breath of air into his lungs, that felt like they were on the brink of shriveling up completely to the point he wouldn’t be able to breath. However, when he exhaled that deep breath, he allowed his overbearing thoughts to flow into the atmosphere and soon disappear, similar to the exhalation of smoke.

“You know this stuff. I know you do. So, try again. Now… Repeat what I told you, Jimin,” Jongin reiterated, his voice low and focused.

“Be pernicious, but gradually and schemingly. Pay attention to anything that is encrypted because it’s most likely something I could use against them later. Be authoritative at all times even if I’m wrong because it creates a demeanor of power and self confidence.” 

Jongin smirked. He placed a hard, reassuring hand on Jimin’s thigh, giving a light squeeze to emphasize his approval a bit further. But mostly to give Jimin more confidence because Jongin was completely aware of how much Jimin enjoyed praise. 

“Good. Now for the last and most significant thing you need to know. Infiltrate. That’s your mission, Jimin. Gain access to the 7 Point Syndicate, both their headquarters and their most important men and women. Infiltrate, gain information, and send the information to us in the encrypted code that Minseok taught you yesterday.”

“What about when I get all of the necessary information? How the hell am I gonna get out of this when I’m done?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that part,” Jongin reassured.

Baekhyun suddenly entered the room with a folder tucked in the crease of his elbow with a tense raised eyebrow with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo right behind him, also toting folders in their arms. They all were oddly underdressed which instantly let Jimin know that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were definitely staying the night. 

“Baekhyun and Chanyeol are going to take care of that,” Jongin supplied. Baekhyun quickly looked up, his face twisting up into a frown, when he heard his name. 

“What are you talking about? I asked you not to give Chanyeol jobs that I don’t approve of first,” Baekhyun groaned. He motioned for Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to give him their folders before mutinously shoving all three of the folders into Jongin’s hands, who slowly stood up to loom over Baekhyun’s short frame.

“I was just telling Jimin that you and Chanyeol are in charge of devising a plan to get him back when all of this is said and done,” Jongin said, setting the set of folders onto the cream colored settee positioned against the wall. He then shifted his attention towards Kyungsoo, who was standing obediently by the door waiting to be spoken to. Even when they weren’t on the job, Kyungsoo was still as compliant as ever to the heir. Jongin gestured for Kyungsoo to come over and without a word, he ambled towards Jongin and melted into his hold when he snaked an arm around his waist. 

“Oh really? And what are you and Kyungsoo gonna do besides fuck each other six ways to Sunday?” 

“We configured the plan to get him  _ in  _ there, the least you could do is make a plan to get him the hell out of there.” Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were about the same height, so when Kyungsoo growled out that complaint, Baekhyun glared potently at him. While that occured, Chanyeol noticed Jimin staring off at nothing in particular, obviously deep within his thoughts and struggling to find a way out. The boy’s face was twisted up in overwhelming concern as he absentmindedly scratched at his wrists. 

“Jimin.” Chanyeol’s deep voice had caught everyone’s attention, pulling the poor boy from his deafening thoughts that were threatening to swallow him whole. 

“It’s about to be midnight, guys. Tomorrow’s D Day for Jimin. We have to be prepared meaning we should probably get some rest.” There was a short moment of silence as the situation that all of them had been trying to avoid acknowledging suddenly dawned on them. The ferocious, mean glare written on Baekhyun’s face quickly disappeared and his expression became unreadable as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and fumbled with the waist hem of his pajama pants. 

Jimin was getting ready to  _ leave  _ and do an incredibly mentally draining job all on behalf of the two older brothers. _ Was this the right thing to do? _

Jongin tightened his grip on Kyungsoo’s waist subconsciously and looked around at nothing in particular. Kyungsoo noticed but didn’t mention it verbally, knowing that Jongin would only deny it all anyway. He only laid his head on Jongin’s shoulder. 

“You’re right, Chanyeol,” Jimin said, voice barely cutting through the tenseness of the silence that surrounded all of them. “I’m gonna go to bed.” He stood on shaky legs, avoiding the eyes that followed him as he exited Jongin’s bedroom. 

Just a few seconds later, the sound of Jimin’s bedroom door shutting much harder than usual echoed through the entire second floor of the penthouse. Baekhyun stayed standing in the middle of the room, immediately letting out an exasperated, exhausted sigh when the door shut. Chanyeol silently walked up behind Baekhyun and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his head on top of the shorter’s. “You should get some sleep too, boss,” Chanyeol whispered. Baekhyun frowned. 

“Don’t call me ‘boss’ right now, Chanyeol.” He rolled his eyes. “Just take me to bed. We gotta be awake at 6 o'clock tomorrow morning so come on, please.” Chanyeol didn’t hesitate to follow the orders he was given but he didn’t miss the rare usage of the phrase ‘please’ and the begging in his tone as Baekhyun made his way towards the bedroom door. Baekhyun wasn’t one to say please to people that weren’t his parents or his brothers. It was a sign that Baekhyun was stressed, so stressed that he couldn’t assert his dominance. Tonight wasn’t going to be an easy one for Chanyeol.

When the door closed and Jongin and Kyungsoo were left alone, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they sighed simultaneously and pulled away from each other. Jongin threw himself onto his bed with a loud groan that made Kyungsoo chuckle under his breath.

Jongin uttered something into the cushion of the pillow and even though Kyungsoo couldn’t hear exactly what he said, he knew that Jongin was looking for something to calm his nerves. The latter knew exactly what he needed. “Weed, cocaine, or Valium, sweetheart?” He asked, going over to the side table.

“Just give me the blunt. I need a few hits before I go to sleep.” 

Kyungsoo nodded, more to himself than to Jongin, and did as he was told while Jongin repositioned himself to sit upright on the right side of his king sized bed that the two of them definitely didn’t fill. Opening the side table and pulling out the already rolled blunt and the Cartier gold lighter that Kang-Dae gave to Jongin as a gift, Kyungsoo settled on the left side of the bed with a deep sigh of distress.

Jongin glanced at him, worriedly. “What’s wrong, Soo?”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer right away like he was trained to do when he was just a mere recruit in the kidnapping/assassination department of the Lotus Syndicate. Kyungsoo was always told and expected to be able to think fast on his feet. He’d long ago mastered the art of not freezing up in any situation that involved business and easily gave quick, factual answers to any question that was asked of him. That’s why he had easily received such a huge promotion from being one of a hundred easily replaceable men in charge of assassinations to being the assistant to the heir of the Lotus Syndicate.

When Kyungsoo was recruited to be Jongin’s assistant and put in charge of aiding the younger in the process of becoming an efficient, knowledgeable mafia boss, Kyungsoo had furthered and improved his skill of being so quick witted because he had to be the man that Jongin could rely on no matter what the circumstances may be.

So what he couldn’t understand was why he had frozen up when asked such a simple question about the way he was feeling. Sure, he wasn’t technically on the job but he still was acting as professional as one could while clad in his boss’ oversized pajamas and lying in his bed. But that was usual for the two. Sleeping together, in both senses of the word, was normal. 

But the nickname wasn’t. The concern laced in Jongin’s tone when he asked Kyungsoo what was wrong, wasn’t normal for the two of them either. The emotion and connection was what caused Kyungsoo’s mind to short circuit. Feelings and emotions weren’t part of his job, so what was he supposed to do?

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin questioned again. This time, Jongin moved a bit closer to Kyungsoo and placed a hand on his thigh.

“I’m… worried about you, sir.” He answered in a whisper.

“You don’t have to call me that right now.” Jongin took note of how Kyungsoo purposefully avoided his eyes and instead loosely fumbled with the blunt and gold lighter in his small fingers. “Why are you worried about me, Soo?”

There goes that nickname again. Kyungsoo closed his eyes and remembered what Junmyeon told him and Chanyeol when they were recruited to be the assistants of the two sons.  _ Don’t let your emotions get involved. It’ll make your job even harder than you need it to be.  _

But then he recalled Minseok’s line of defense.  _ Emotions don’t equal weakness, Myeon. Out of control emotions make things hard, but having some emotion might actually make things a bit easier. Helps you make the best decision. So heed both of our words, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. Emotions are a good thing, but only when you use them in tandem with your brain.  _

At the time, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were on opposing sides. Chanyeol agreed with Minseok while Kyungsoo agreed with Junmyeon. Kyungsoo was never one to show much emotion anyway and was a firm believer that emotions only made doing his job harder than if he was to only use his knowledge and logic. But when he felt Jongin’s warm, rough hand on his thigh, he felt a slight pang in his heart. 

In lieu of pondering on the thought, he removed Jongin’s hand from his thigh and placed the weed blunt and Cartier gold lighter in his palm instead.

“Because your emotions are getting the best of you,” Kyungsoo uttered shortly. 

“I know…” Jongin sighed. “Soo, remind me in the morning to tell Jimin to not fall prey to emotions and to avoid emotions and bonds as much as he can,” Jongin said as he placed the blunt between his lips and flicked open the lighter to draw a flame.

Kyungsoo knit his eyebrows together and turned to face Jongin. “Is that necessary, Jongin?” The aforementioned took a moment to inhale the smoke of marijuana before exhaling it from his nostrils, a cloud of grey smoke forming in front of him.

“Yes. Like you said, I’m letting my emotions get the best of me. I don’t want that for him,” Jongin said. 

“He’s your brother. These emotions are inevitable. Of course, they’re going to get the best of you at time.” Kyungsoo decided to look at Jongin completely now. “Because of these emotions, you’re gonna do everything in your power to get him back. You’re gonna be precise and prim. Correct?”

Jongin took another inhale of the blunt, flicking off some of the ash into the ashtray on the side table, before, this time, he exhaled the smoke through his mouth. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Instead of telling him not to feel any emotions, tell him that he needs to keep them under control. Following only your heart makes your weak in this empire. However, relying only on your mind can make you weak too. If you tell Jimin to use both his emotions and logic during the mission, it might make things it a bit easier for him and take some of the pressure off.” 

“You might actually be right,” Jongin said after a moment of silence.

Kyungsoo smirked. That was Jongin’s way of saying that Kyungsoo  _ was  _ right. 

He was sure none of them would see the day when Jongin would actually admit that someone else’s opinion or answer was right over his own. Seeing Kyungsoo smirk, Jongin grinned a bit while blowing out another cloud of smoke. 

Jongin offered the blunt to Kyungsoo who quickly took the offer. He brought it up to his lips and inhaled the fumes of marijuana deep into his lungs. He held it in for a second, letting it burn slightly before slowly exhaling it through his mouth also.

“You know, if you think it would be better for you, I could always go in Jimin’s place,” Kyungsoo suggested, his voice deeper than usual from the burn in his lungs. The blunt was quite short now, so Kyungsoo held it between his index finger and his thumb. He let his eyelids hang low, already feeling the effect of marijuana kicking in. 

“I’m sure I would react this way even if you were the one leaving, Kyungsoo,” Jongin chuckled huskily and lowly. Kyungsoo slowly diverted his gaze to Jongin and smiled. He had spent enough time with Jongin to know what he was hinting at. Kyungsoo knew exactly what the aforementioned meant and it made him smile subconsciously. 

_ Feelings. _

Jongin was like an encrypted file that Kyungsoo usually asked Chanyeol to decipher for him. Everything Jongin did and said almost always had an underlying meaning to it that Kyungsoo had to decipher in only a matter of seconds which proved to be the hardest part of Kyungsoo’s job. Despite that, Kyungsoo could almost always read when Jongin felt something and  _ wanted  _ something. Or wanted him. Like now. 

“Master,” Jongin breathed, eyes low and red as he seductively reached to take the blunt away from Kyungsoo. The latter shivered and met Jongin’s lustful gaze with his own. Both sudden power and arousal ran through Kyungsoo’s veins when Jongin gave him control, opening himself for Kyungsoo and calling him Master. Begging him so needily. 

“Yes, baby?”  
“Give it to me before we go to bed. I want it in me so bad.” Jongin didn’t wait for Kyungsoo to accept or deny him, he just maneuvered to straddle Kyungsoo and capture his lips in a sloppy kiss, both of their senses heightened by the effects of marijuana. Kyungsoo made a mental note to tell Jongin to get this type of weed again.

The way Kyungsoo firmly grasped Jongin’s ass before quickly flipping them over so Kyungsoo was lying on top of him and pinning the latter to the bed let Jongin know that he would definitely be getting what he wanted. 

“You want me inside you, Jongin?” 

“Yeah,” Jongin gasped when Kyungsoo nipped and licked gingerly at his neck. He keened under his touch, silently praising Kyungsoo for knowing exactly what he wanted without him having to say so. Kyungsoo was dominant but his touch was still tender instead of rough. Exactly what he wanted. “Make it quick please. We have to get up early, Master.” Jongin’s voice was suddenly high pitched and slightly feminine, much to Kyungsoo’s satisfaction and arousal.

“Just give me twenty minutes and you’ll be spent, baby boy.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


When Jimin woke up, he didn’t make any sudden movements to get out of bed. Judging by the little amounts of sunlight seeping in past the slight opening of the light blocking curtains, he assumed it was early, early morning. About 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning, maybe. He naturally sleeps in a fetal position, his body curled up to conserve as much heat as possible during the night. But this position did nothing but make him feel a bit more childish than ever. He’d never be able to run away from his innocence and he hated that.

Still curled up in this position, thighs hugged loosely against his chest, Jimin began to think again. If he had the energy, he would’ve groaned audibly because his lack of energy was solely due to the fact that Jimin’s thoughts were continuously racing and there was no finish line in sight. He was tired of thinking; in fact, the boy was tired in general. 

Tired of thinking about how much he’s miss the house, his bed, his parents, his brothers. Everything. He was tired of thinking about crying out Jongin’s and Baekhyun’s names in the middle of the night to tell them how much his fear was eating away at him. How scared the youngest was of doing this job. But Jimin fought against those urges. 

He can do this. He has to do this. His older brothers were right, Jimin was the only one who could do this and successfully go undetected if he didn’t  _ fuck up.  _

Once again, he felt the annoying burn behind his eyes as if he was going to cry. A few tears did manage to make their way past their confines but Jimin quickly wiped them away with his forearm, that being the first movement he’d made since he’d opened his eyes that morning.

Jimin hadn’t known how long he had been lying motionless in bed until he heard footsteps entering his room. Even though his back was turned towards the door and he usually would immediately put up his defenses without a second thought, he didn’t. He just stayed idle, already knowing it was either one of his brothers because of the calculation in every step made. Only his brothers would care enough to walk softly enough with the intentions of not waking him. Chanyeol might. Kyungsoo definitely wouldn’t.

“It’s 5:30,” Jongin supplied. Soon after hearing the older’s voice, there was a dip in Jimin’s mattress that prompted Jimin to turn over to lie on his back. Glaring slightly at Jongin, he saw that the older was already half dressed, only having to button up his waistcoat and tie his tie before he was ready. “The car will be here in thirty minutes or less, so you need to throw some clothes on quickly.” 

Jongin was looking down at him with an unreadable expression. But despite the immaculateness of Jongin’s appearance, it was obvious that he hadn’t gotten any sleep either. His eyes were low with the desire to sleep and a bit red from the lack thereof. Jimin envied his brother for a moment. The fact that he was also overcome by emotions yet he was able to possess the determination to get business done and push emotions aside. He looked his brother over one time.

“Okay,” Jimin croaked. Jongin gave a quick nod before standing and making his way across the large room and towards the door again. Jimin watched his brother closely as he walked away. He didn’t miss the obvious reluctance to leave the room when Jongin stopped for a split second when he reached the door. 

_ Don’t go.  _ A voice in Jimin’s head whispered. 

“Hurry, okay,” Jongin said a little above a whisper, his back still facing Jimin. “Baekhyun and I will wait for you in the living room.” Jimin only responded with a grunt of acknowledgement and with that, Jongin shut the door behind him. 

Jimin didn’t realize that his brother had in fact left the door slightly opened because of the fact that he knew how much the younger hated being alone. Jongin knew that the echoing sound of the door shutting completely would break Jimin’s heart. But Jimin hadn’t noticed this because the tears welling in his eyes were already hindering his ability to see. Just the sight of watching his brother leave was enough to break his heart.

He wanted to be stronger. Needed to be stronger if he was going to do this job.

  
  


Their driver arrived at exactly at 6:01. Jimin would’ve been quite relieved for an extra minute inside of his home, but it was ruined by Baekhyun ranting angrily about their driver being late, even if by just a minute. His voice was just a pitch higher than normal and that only seemed to agitate Jimin’s nerves even further. Jimin wondered if Baekhyun was aware of this slight change in tone and break in his exterior. However, it didn’t really matter because only the three of them were in the living room, silently basking in the others’ presence, when they heard their driver, Jiwoo, honk the car horn. 

Jimin was the first one out of the front door because he desperately wanted to hide his fumbling fingers, that were pulling at his warm colored tie, from his brothers. Deciding to take the passenger seat, Jimin threw open the door of the black Aston Martin Db11 and slid inside, offering Jiwoo a quick smile before redirecting his attention elsewhere.

Jiwoo returned the gesture even though Jimin didn’t take notice to it and waited for Baekhyun and Jongin to secure themselves in the backseat. “Good morning, Jiwoo. We’re sorry that you had to wake up so early just to drive us into town, we’re aware of your situation at home, so be expecting a much larger paycheck this month for your cooperation,” Jongin said.

“Thank you, sir. And just to let you know, I don’t have a problem with doing this at all. I actually enjoy the presence of you three at any time of the day.” Jiwoo looked up at the rearview mirror to meet Jongin’s eye and smiled brightly to emphasize her point. Jongin quite forcibly returned the smile with a slight chuckle. 

“We appreciate you so much,”Baekhyun agreed. With a sweet hum of acknowledgement and approval from her thin lips, Jiwoo started the car and pulled off of the curb and down smoothly paved road that led from their isolated home into the city.

Jimin expected the car ride to be about fifteen minutes, a minute or two less if there was no traffic, because that was always how long it usually took to arrive at the Lotus’ casino, hotel, or any of the other places his brother’s usually did business. Instead, they drove past the main part of Seoul. 

“Where are we going?” Jimin questioned, gripping the expensive, white leather armrest subconsciously as he turned around to glare at Baekhyun and Jongin. 

“We’re almost there,” Baekhyun said shortly, which also meant to dismiss the conversation right then and there. Usually Jimin would’ve rebelliously pushed Baekhyun for an answer, but he just turned around with a childish huff that made Jiwoo giggle. 

They had indeed arrived in a matter of five minutes. Jiwoo had, not to long ago, made a turn into an unfamiliar quiet, pleasant looking neighborhood. It almost looked too perfect and symmetrical to be a real neighborhood. It was more similar to the neighborhoods in the t.v. shows he had made a habit of watching during the ten years the boy hadn’t been allowed to leave the house. All of the houses, one after the other, were an exact replica of the one before it. Each and every one a one story, quaint home that looked like they only had one or two bedrooms at the most. A starter home. The lack of people outside made the neighborhood look almost inhabited. The lack of people was weird to Jimin because, again, on the t.v. shows he watched, there was always people outside.

Jimin scolded himself internally. If he wanted to survive in this reality, he would have to stop comparing life to the shows he watched on television. 

When they were midway down the considerably lengthy street of duplicate houses, Jiwoo slowly came to a stop. Throwing a quick but meaningful “thank you” to Jiwoo, Baekhyun and Jongin threw open the car doors and slid out. Jimin slowly followed suit, waving at the long haired woman. 

This time, Jiwoo smiled sadly at Jimin as he shut the car door. He noticed  _ that  _ smile and wondered why she seemed so sympathetic for him. Even there driver was questioning his ability to do a real job?

Jimin inhaled the chilly air of October into his lungs before exhaling it seconds later. Clearing his head, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his black slacks and began to follow his brothers along the concrete path and up the three steps of one of the houses. Looking around, mostly because of primal instinct instead of actually feeling threatened, Jongin reached inside of his buttoned suit jacket and fished out a single, silver key. 

Jongin easily pushed open the door open. The front door led straight into a small living room area where Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were sitting on the cheap looking couch searching through a few paper files with a laptop opened on the coffee table for both of them to see. When the door opened, both assistants discarded their work and stood, stretching out their legs.

“Ah, you’re both here. Is everything ready?” Baekhyun asked shutting the door behind them and toeing off his shoes. Jimin and Jongin did the same.

“We were double checking Jimin’s files and the house in general,” Kyungsoo answered. Chanyeol had began talking afterwards, probably elaborating on exactly the two had been doing, but Jimin had stopped listening to look around instead. 

The house was small, most of the house could be easily seen without even moving from by the front door. Big enough for one person to live in. For Jimin to live in. Suddenly the house felt even smaller and he found it hard to catch his breath.

He was snatched from his thoughts when he heard one of the doors inside of the house creek open. Snapping his head in that direction, he wasn’t at all surprised to see Minseok and Junmyeon walk out of that room. Jimin knew automatically that the room would be some type of office for him to work in. The dead give away was when Junmyeon fished a small key out of his pocket and locked the door behind him.

“Alright. Mama and daddy should be here in the next ten minutes, so let’s get this mission set up,” Baekhyun announced. “Chanyeol, finish looking over the files and make sure everything is correct.” Chanyeol obeyed almost robotically.

“Junmyeon, Baekhyun and I need to speak to you,” Jongin followed up. His tone was as blunt and nonchalant as ever so there was no way for Jimin to make any predictions about what they had possibly needed to talk to the man about. Despite the uncertainty, Junmyeon didn’t seemed phased by it one bit and only nodded in response. 

“Kyungsoo and Minseok, tell Jimin everything he needs to know.” With that Jongin waved his hand, a sign that everyone was dismissed and was expected to do what was asked of them now. While everyone else started moving around the small space, Jimin stood there, still a few inches from the front door. What the hell was he even supposed to do?

Minseok and Kyungsoo’s gaze fixed upon him is what caught Jimin’s attention. They motioned for him to follow them towards one of the closed doors that Jimin soon found out was a bedroom.  _ His  _ bedroom. It was decorated contemporarily, most of the room clad in colors of tan, black, white, and a hint of olive green. Jimin was fond of the room but appreciated the large window that took up most of the sidewall. It reminded him of his own room at home. 

Jimin made his way to sit on neatly made up bed while Kyungsoo sat on the comfy chair in the corner and Minseok just opted to lean against the wall. “I’m sure you already figured out that this is where you will be living. Well unless they give you another place to live then you should take the arrangement. It could help you,” Kyungsoo began, crossing one of his other legs over the other with his hands neatly folded over his knee and lounging back in the chair. 

“But everything you need is in that locked room.” Minseok pulled a key from out his pocket and tossed it at Jimin. He didn’t make any attempt to catch it, just let the key soundlessly land on the plush white comforters next to him. “Your office is where all of your significant files, data, and more will be. Don’t let anyone in here either, including any females you might meet.” 

Jimin scoffed. “What if they ask for a back story or something?”

“I doubt they would really care,” Kyungsoo said. “But if the situation does arise then just say that your parents left one day a few years ago and never returned. You make money by hacking a variety systems for people.”

Jimin furrowed his brow and glanced at Minseok, who, just like Jimin thought, was now rigidly standing against the wall, eyes wide and jaw clenched tightly. The story was incredibly similar to Minseok’s own before he was recruited into the Lotus. 

He only knew this because Jimin questioned Junmyeon about Minseok’s hatred towards perfect, nuclear families or just family in general. He was sure that even just muttering the word ‘family’ would piss Minseok off. Junmyeon quietly told Jimin that Minseok had once had a nuclear family. He had one brother and, of course, a mother and father that was perfect in his eyes. However, on a specific date, that Jimin couldn’t remember at the time, his parents had left to pick up some seaweed soup for the two boys to eat for dinner but never returned. Minseok, being seventeen at the time, was skilled at hacking and used this skill to illegally hack the school system’s database to change grades in exchange for money. Minseok had then taught his younger brother how to hack also. 

But when Minseok was nineteen, he’d came home to find that his younger brother had also went missing all of a sudden. It shattered Minseok’s heart and Junmyeon, having been Minseok’s friend from high school, recruited him to work with the Lotus in hopes that one day he’d be able to acquire the necessary skill to track down his family. But even 6 years later, Kim Minseok still  _ hated  _ families because his had been suddenly snatched from him. 

Minseok openly glared angrily at Kyungsoo who hadn’t responded verbally but with just a roll of his eyes. There was no need to be so oversensitive. Minseok wasn’t the only one who had a fucked up childhood so why should Kyungsoo have to tiptoe around his feelings?

“O-okay,” Jimin answered, shifting his attention between both men. “So how am I going to get into the 7 Point Syndicate?” 

“Ah, yes.” Kyungsoo stood before ambling towards the door while Minseok stayed silent. He opened it enough to stick his head through and inform the four other men that Jimin was ‘ready.’ In a matter of seconds, the four other men filed into the room, all appearing tall and confident as they lined up along the wall opposite of the bed, like a wall of sorts.

Jimin maneuvered to sit in the middle of the bed to get his own place in the now crowded room. “The plan…” Jimin reminded, now looking at his brothers who were seated on the end of his new bed. Jongin was turned towards him but Baekhyun kept his back facing Jimin, almost blatantly defiant and purposeful. 

“Right… That computer that Chanyeol is holding is going to be your personal laptop. You’re gonna use it today to hack into any department of the 7 Point that you would like and purposefully leave traces to catch their attention. After seeing where the traces are coming from, they’re going to most likely send a timed message to your computer, telling you what they want you to do.”

“What if they want to kill me for ‘mistakenly’ hacking into their databases?””

“They won’t,” Baekhyun suddenly said. “You don’t look intimidating and you’re pretty young which is an advantage.” Finally his innocence isn’t a hindrance to him but instead an advantage. “Plus you’ll be wearing an anti pollution face mask with an air respirator on it. You’ll pose as if you have an immune system deficiency meaning that you can’t breath in non-purified air.”

“That means they definitely won’t see you as a threat because you have a ‘sickness,’” Kyungsoo added.

“So if everything goes as planned, they’ll recruit you into their ranks as a hacker and you’ll be in,” Jongin finished. As if to further complicate things, Chanyeol placed the laptop in front of Jimin where he was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, even opening it for him. 

“Got it…” Jimin muttered, reaching for the laptop and placing it on his lap. Jongin smirked and nodded while Baekhyun, who still had his back facing Jimin, only lowered his head.

  
  
  
  


“Yoongi!” The voice yelled out in frustration as if the owner of the voice had been calling for Yoongi more than just a few times. And like he had done the first few times the person called for him, Yoongi ignored it and continued to take random pieces of paper that he deemed unnecessary from Hoseok’s desk, holding them over the flame of his favorite lighter and watching them burn. 

He grinned slyly as he watched the paper curl up and gradually burn away into nothing but a few ashes. When the flame got close to his pale fingers, he would drop it in the waste bin under Hoseok’s desk and repeat the process all over again. 

It was so calming to Yoongi and it was the only reason Yoongi enjoyed coming to Hoseok’s office when he had a few hours of free time. As he began to light another file aflame, the door swung open smashing against the walls that provide little circulation of air due to the fact that Hoseok’s office was in the basement of the warehouse in the middle of Jung-gu. 

“If this matter doesn’t have to do with explosives and isn’t incredibly significant, I don’t want to hear about it,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off of the paper as it soon began to burn. 

“It’s important, Yoongi,” Hoseok said, anger laced in his tone at being ignored so many times so Yoongi could set fire to some stupid papers. 

“How important?”

“Someone’s hacking the system again,” Hoseok said. Yoongi dropped the last bit of unburned paper into the waste bin with the rest and looked slyly at Hoseok, sensing his irritation.

“You angry with me?” Yoongi asked, standing before following Hoseok out of the office and down the hall. He wasn’t given an answer. Hoseok just turned on his heal and stormed away. Yoongi was ready to call out to him but Sehun’s, Hoseok’s assistant, rushed voice from one of the considerably larger rooms where most of Hoseok’s best hackers worked. Sehun was sitting in front of three computer screens, files and emails scattered across every screen. 

“The person left a considerable amount of traces for me to track,” Sehun confirmed, his fingers rushing nonstop across the keyboard. Yoongi didn’t know if the sound of the keys loudly tapping was annoying or satisfying to his ears. 

“Then track them,” Yoongi demanded, leaning over Sehun’s cluttered desk. There were files everywhere and multiple coffee stains scattered about on the desk. The twenty year old liked coffee just as much as Yoongi liked fire. 

Sehun grunted before obeying silently. Hoseok leaned against the wall behind Sehun and watched closely at every new thing that popped up or loaded. Yoongi looked at the computer screens absentmindedly for he had no idea what any of this meant. He only understood the ending result.

So when a map of Seoul popped up and an address materialized on screen, Yoongi definitely understood and was just as confused as the other two. This was coming from someone who lived in a pleasant neighborhood? “It can’t be the Lotus then,” Sehun said, turning to look at Yoongi who was biting at the nail of his thumb in thought. 

“The traces were too easys to be the Lotus in the first place. Plus, the fact that this is coming from someone in some family neighborhood is peculiar enough. What if it’s one of those stupid ass street gangs that made some rookie mistake and needs their asses beat? That makes sense,” Sehun continued, taking a sip of his coffee that had a nice shot of espresso in it. Just what Sehun needed to be ready for the day.

“It could also be the police, you know. Maybe they made some stupid mistake or are trying to lure us into some type of ambush,” Hoseok suggested. Yoongi thought about it for another few seconds and suddenly agreed with Hoseok. “You’re right, Hobi,” Yoongi acknowledged shortly. “Now how are we gonna deal with it?”

“I say we send ‘em a message. Tell whoever it is that they need to meet us at the cafe right across from our casino. Warn them that if they even think about telling anybody, that they  _ will  _ be killed.” Hoseok’s voice lowered to a sinister tone because, just like Yoongi, Hoseok hated the police.

“I’ll call Taehyung and Jungkook and ask if they can keep watch and scope out the area. Make sure there’s no other police or street gangs around trying to set you up,” Yoongi said, straightening up once again. He looked to Hoseok, beckoning for him to smile. To forgive him. But Hoseok only rolled his eyes and redirected his attention back to the three screens of Sehun’s computer.

“Right away, Young Master Yoongi.” 

  
  


When the message popped up on the screen of the laptop, black backdrop and small, white lettering, Jimin was, to say the least, incredibly startled. For some reason, even the font looked malicious and sinister. 

“Jongin and Baekhyun,” Jimin muttered. Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Minseok, and Junmyeon had been sent to the living room while Baekhyun and Jongin stayed with Jimin, watching the boy focused strictly on the laptop screen. They had pulled out their phones a few times, presumably to send a few texts and emails, before going back to muttering to each other under their breaths.

Hearing the youngest brother’s voice, the smile that had made its way onto their faces quickly dropped as they looked at Jimin apprehensively.

“They said meet them at a cafe in the middle of the Gangnam District right across the street from the Lucky 7 casino. 3 o’clock sharp. If I tell anyone, they say they won’t hesitate to put an end to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I wanted to say that I'm going to try my best to update this every week and create some type of consistency, I promise! Thank you to all who have been commenting and leaving kudos. It means so much to me. 
> 
> Next chapter is when Jimin finally gets into the 7 Point and meets some peopleeee. 
> 
> Until next time! Love you! 
> 
> Love, Your Mochi


	7. Infiltration

Yoongi tapped his foot against the wooden flooring of the slowly moving elevator that was carrying him up to the top floor of the casino. He glanced down at the diamond Rolex watch on his wrist that Namjoon always grimaced at when Yoongi purposefully flaunted the expensive piece of jewelry. 

It was about 2:50 in the afternoon. Yoongi sighed deeply. In all honesty, he was only agreeing to help with this because Hoseok was still upset with him and he was attempting to show the younger that he did care about Hoseok’s job. Even if it was only because Hoseok let him burn up the paper files after he saved them into the computer.

When the elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors soundlessly slid open, Yoongi swiftly exited and turned right, following the hallway down to Seokjin’s office door. He offered quick but feigned smiles to the, mostly female, workers walking around with stacks of papers, typing at desktops, and even a few women chatting off to the side in small groups during their break. There were a few suggestive glares thrown his way but he paid them no mind at all. 

Getting to Jin’s office, Yoongi had began to just simply open the door without alerting Seokjin, but he stopped suddenly in his tracks and thought for a second. Did Namjoon get here yet? Because when the two were alone, they almost always were engaging in some type of sexual activity. Yoongi understood, for the two were always busy with meetings, appointments, and responding to emails to ever have time for each other. But walking in on Namjoon fucking Seokjin over the desk was the last thing he wanted to see. He had just eaten.

He attempted to recall whether or not Namjoon had left the penthouse with Jin or if he went to the meeting with their father first. When no memory came to mind, Yoongi decided to just knock. Slow, steady, and heavy so they knew that it was him.

“Hold on, Gi. Just a sec.” Seokjin’s voice was rough and a bit high pitched from the other side of the door, a dead giveaway of the fact that Namjoon was in fact in there.

“You guys are seriously fooling around when you’re supposed to be setting up everything for Hoseok’s mission? I don’t need him more upset than he already is.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

In just a span of a few seconds, the knob began to fumble before the large door was wrenched open, revealing Seokjin who looked particularly descent while Namjoon was sitting at Jin’s brand new desk staring at Jin’s new laptop. The entire office was  _ new. _

After Seokjin barely defended himself against their dad’s four men a few months ago, Namjoon promised to refurbish the entire office so Jin wasn’t constantly reminded of that day. It was bad enough Seokjin had the scar on his face to remind him constantly that he could have been raped and killed, so Namjoon decided that the furniture needed to go. Instead of being decked in contemporary colors of silver, white, and black, it was renovated to look more warm and cozy in lieu of its usual professional atmosphere. It was an office solely for Seokjin anyway, why'd it need to be professional?

Yoongi nodded in approval at the new layout, commending his older brother for giving Seokjin the best because while Yoongi didn’t like Jin all of the time, the man deserved the best.

Yoongi glanced at the two again. They looked so descent and prompt that he questioned whether or not he made the right assumption about what the two were up to when he knocked.

Well. That was until he saw Jin’s glistening, swollen lips, deep red, flushed cheeks, and his disheveled hair as if someone had their hand weaved into it and yanked it a few times. “You’re disgusting, Jin,” Yoongi scoffed as he entered the room, heading directly for the large window that covered a large part of the wall to the right and the wall opposite from the door.

“Shut up, Yoongi. Don’t act like you don’t want to find out how good I am at it.” Jin tried to sound cocky and arrogant but his voice was too scratchy and wrecked to do anything more than barely whisper out his retort.

“Baby,” Namjoon warned, glaring at his lover over the top of his laptop screen. Jin only shrugged defiantly before shutting and locking the door and returning to Namjoon’s side behind the desk.

“Don’t worry, Joon. I do not by any means think of Seokjin in that way,” Yoongi reassured with a slight chuckle that pulled an affronted grimace from Jin’s lips. “I see him as too much of a parental figure for me to feel that way,” he continued, as he looked out of the large window. The frown on Jin’s face disappeared as quickly as it had come.

The casino was a pretty tall building and being that they were on the top and last floor, Yoongi had to strain his neck and eyes to actually see the ground, but he still managed to catch sight of Hoseok’s black hair brushed up to reveal his forehead-Yoongi’s favorite hairstyle on him- as he crossed the street and entered the cafe that the 7 Point Syndicate owned. 

“I wasn’t worried, Yoongs. I just don’t want-” 

Namjoon’s response was interrupted by a loud beeping from Namjoon’s phone that was face down on the systematically organized desk next to the laptop he was working on. Organized by Seokjin of course. Both men were quite skilled organization but were different and distinct in the way they did so. Namjoon was precise and followed a step by step method it seemed when he organized things. Seokjin’s organization was more of a system that changed along with whatever was being toyed with. So 

It was like the two were meant for each other. Puzzle pieces, if you may. 

Picking up the phone and looking at the caller ID, he announced, “It’s Jungkook. Him, Hoseok, and Taehyung are probably finished setting up.” Namjoon answered the phone and immediately put it on speaker for the three of them to hear.

“Talk to me, Kook,” Namjoon said, pushing the laptop away so he could focus on the mission at hand that started right on time. Yoongi brought up his wrist to check the time, reading 2:58. Looking up again, he caught Namjoon frowning at him heavily as if he wanted to smash the rolex watch to pieces. 

Yoongi didn’t think much of it. Just because Namjoon didn't see the meaning in having expensive jewelry didn’t mean Yoongi couldn’t like it. 

“I’m on the roof and in position,” Jungkook informed. Yoongi frowned. “Why isn’t Taehyung in charge of sniping. You know you’re bad at aiming, Kook.”

“Have some faith in me, Yoongi, damn. I’m sure I can do it.” A deep, annoyed sigh resounded through the speaker. “Hold on, let me connect Hoseok and Tae to the call.”

After a moment of shuffling on Jungkook’s end of the phone and a comment from Seokjin about hoping that Jungkook actually was able to accurately snipe his target if it came to that, two more distinct voices joined the call.

“Hoseok, here.”

“It’s Taehyung.”

Both introduced themselves like they always did when they were having a call like this during a mission. Even though they could easily tell who was who by their voices, introducing themselves as soon as they entered the call allowed them comfort that everyone was there and aware.

“Stances? Updates?” Jin asked as he maneuvered to sit on Namjoon’s lap who allowed it without any objections to the man. For the tenth time in the last ten minutes, Yoongi’s rolled his eyes. 

“I’m behind the counter of the cafe and in uniform. All of the security cameras are set up to keep an eye on every inch of this place. I’m currently watching over Hoseok.” Taehyung was going undercover as an employee at their cafe to catch any suspicious looking people that would be part of an ambush of any sort. Suddenly, Yoongi understood why Jungkook decided to allow Taehyung to go undercover instead of sniping from the rooftop. Even though Taehyung had impeccable accuracy, almost as accurate as Yoongi, the boy was even better at reading people and would be able to easily identify someone with ill intentions as soon as they walked through the double doors of the Clover Cafe.

He made a mental note to praise Jungkook later for picking the success of the job over his  _ huge,  _ easily bruised ego.  

“And yes, my earpiece is secured and hidden,” Taehyung added shortly afterwards knowing that Namjoon or Seokjin was going to ask him anyway. It wasn’t that they wanted to make him feel inferior but only because Taehyung had once lost his earpiece in an unprecedented shoot out with one of those street gangs and disappeared for 24 hours. It caused Jungkook to panic at the thought of losing his best friend. The last thing Namjoon and Yoongi needed was Jungkook making countless mistakes because his mind was clouded with agony again.

“Promise?” Jin asked, like he was asking a child if they had truly cleaned their room before they were allowed to go outside and play.

“Promise.” Tae chuckled.

“What about you, Hoseok? Stance?”

“I’m sitting at one of the booths towards the corner, watching the people that come in and out. Also watching over Taehyung.” Hoseok’s voice was low in a whisper and determined, exactly how it always was when Hoseok was on the job. Yoongi found it hard to believe that this was also Hobi; the human epitome of the sun itself was also as badass as they came.

“Someone’s coming,” Jungkook said. “Tall, black hair, wearing sunglasses., in a suit.” 

The line immediately went silent except for the strong breeze of the wind from Jungkook’s end of the call, being that he was on the roof. Yoongi walked a bit closer to the desk to hear better when he heard Taehyung’s voice ask the man what he would like to order in a polite voice. Only Taehyung and Jungkook could feign innocence so well that even Yoongi and Namjoon could be convinced that it was authentic with enough persuasion. Seokjin was never convinced because he knew the two of them all too well to be fooled.

When they heard the man mention that he would take the coffee to-go, they all glanced at the clock. 3:03. “Hoseok, what time did you tell the person to meet you there?” Yoongi doubled checked. 

“Three o’clock sharp. I wouldn’t mess something like this up,” Hoseok uttered. 

“Give it time, Yoongi,” Namjoon reassured. “Sit down. You’re worrying for nothing,” Jin followed, patting the chair next to him that he was once sitting in before deciding to take a seat on Namjoon’s thigh. Yoongi only grimaced and harshly threw himself into the cushioned chair. 

Worrying wasn’t Yoongi’s thing. He wasn’t worried. He just wanted to find out the real intentions of this person and he was tired of waiting because if he were to wait too long, then he  _ would’ve _ gotten nervous.

 

The next few moments were considerably quiet. There was only the sound of Taehyung taking orders, Jungkook complaining about the cold, steadily dropping temperatures and announcing anyone suspicious-looking walking into the cafe, and Yoongi’s sighing out of the lack of patience.

“Taehyung, tell us everyone inside of the cafe at the moment,” Namjoon ordered out of the blue, almost as if he had a sudden epiphany. After calling out a ‘thank you, have a great day’ to a departing customer, Taehyung listed all of the people one by one and their location. An elderly woman sitting close to the windows of the cafe who told Taehyung while taking her order that she was waiting for her son who just came home from a business trip. A group of teenage girls sitting in the booth and giggling to each other. Hoseok, of course. And two young college students who had recently ordered their third cups of coffee while working on some essay.

“A boy just walked in wearing an anti pollution mask. Seems to be looking around for someone,” Taehyung uttered, glancing over at Hoseok and back at the boy who was still standing in front of the door. The two of them watched the silver haired boy fumble with his fingers while searching around the cafe. When the boy caught Hoseok’s gaze and noticed that he was in fact sitting alone, he slowly made his way over, his eyes glued to the polished floors as he did so.

“Are you… you know… the computer message?” The boy asked. The corners of his eyes were tilted down in worry and the silver strands of his hair perfectly framing his face. Hoseok kept his face expressionless but was definitely shocked as he looked over the boy’s demeanor. Even with a mask on his face, Hoseok could tell that there was a little bit of fluff to the boy’s cheeks to match his small hands and his considerably short height, compared to Hoseok’s height at least.

“Sit down,” Hoseok advised, following his every movement. 

“It’s him,” Taehyung said into his mic, absentmindedly toying with the coffee machine as the other employees moved around the small space behind the counter. Every other employee knew that Taehyung was working undercover for the day so he didn’t have to deal with peculiar, obnoxious looks from them because it looked like Taehyung was having a full blown conversation with the coffee maker. 

“You mean that kid with the silver hair that walked in a few minutes ago?” Jungkook asked in disbelief. “He’s the one? I didn’t say anything because he looked completely harmless. Are you sure that’s him?”

“He’s surely sitting with Hoseok,” Taehyung whispered. He turned away from the coffee machine to discreetly look over at the Hoseok and the boy in a nearby booth. 

“Kid?” Yoongi questioned finally. With just a few details of the fact that he was wearing a mask and that he had silver hair, Yoongi quickly imagined a young man in his mid twenties possibly with an intimidating glint to his eyes to match the mask and silver hair. So when Jungkook said ‘kid,’ that entire image diminished completely. It made it even harder to imagine what the boy looked like when he heard his voice through Hoseok’s mic. 

“My name is Park Jimin.” The voice was muffled because of the mask and his distance from Hoseok’s mic but Yoongi could tell that his voice was soft, youthful and he talked with a distinct dialect.

“Look at the security cameras and see for yourself. He looks even younger than Jungkook,” Taehyung said. Namjoon immediately reached for the laptop that he had pushed away earlier. “Let me,” Jin sighed when he noticed Namjoon go about finding the security footage in a way that was completely unnecessary and time consuming. He lightly slapped Namjoon’s hands away and with just a few clicks and swipes at the mousepad, the security camera views were displayed on the screen. Jin angled it so the three of them could see exactly what the boy looked like. 

He looked so incredibly innocent, almost as if he hadn’t had any interaction with the harsh realities of the world they lived in. He had no idea what he had just stumbled into.  

It was quiet between Hoseok and Jimin, neither of them saying anything but just staring. No doubt, Hoseok was shocked at the fact that this boy was possibly still a minor.

“Get to it, Hoseok,” Namjoon snapped impatiently. Yoongi glared at his older brother while Seokjin reached for Namjoon’s hand that was scratching at the polished dark brown wood of the office desk. Whether it was because he wanted Namjoon to calm down or he didn’t want his desk to get scratched, Yoongi was thankful for Jin because the sound of fingernails screeching against wood, no matter how quiet it was, was incredibly irritating to him. 

“The name’s Hoseok. Let’s get straight to business,  _ Jimin.”  _ Hoseok’s voice was quiet but authoritative over the speaker. “Why were you in the database of the 7 Point? And you better not lie because I will not hesitate to put an end to this conversation and your life in just a few seconds. Now I advise you to tell the truth and the full truth.”

“I-I was doing a job for someone. They offered me a lot of money to hack into the system and change a few things.” The three men had leaned a bit closer to the phone to hear Jimin’s voice more clearly because the boy talked softly as it was even if he did try his best to be heard over the mask. 

“Who?” 

“A man. He went by some codename. A series of numbers and letters. He was from one of those gangs around Seoul and the Jung district.”

“I see.”

“Said that if I-”

“Tell him take off that damn mask,” Namjoon growled. “I can barely understand what the hell he’s saying.”

“The mask. Take it off,” Hoseok reiterated shortly, narrowing his eyes at Jimin as he interrupted him. Even though he was watching through a security camera, Yoongi easily noticed the way Jimin’s body tensed and went rigid, even more than it was before if that was even possible. 

“I can’t. I have an immune system deficiency… I can’t breathe in too much unpurified air. It’s not SCID or anything… It’s mostly my respiratory system that’s affected hence why I wear the mask when I leave my house,” Jimin supplied, looking over at the employees behind the counters to avoid Hoseok’s intense gaze set strictly upon him.

Taehyung in particular, who had been watching in his peripheral, began pouring coffee into a mug to busy himself when he noticed Jimin looking his way.

“I feel bad about this,” Jungkook mumbled. Yoongi wanted to storm up those stairs to the roof and slap him so hard that Yoongi’s own hand would be throbbing from the force.

Nowadays, Jungkook had a bad feeling about everything lately. It was all because of his empathy that he questioned whether or not what Namjoon and Yoongi authorized was the right thing to do. But what the boy needed to learn, in Yoongi’s opinion, was that the mafia doesn’t do the  _ right  _ thing and didn’t need to. It wasn’t the 7 Point Syndicate’s job to do the right thing. They did whatever they needed to ensure that business ran smoothly and without error and that money was being made. It was so ironic that Jungkook had so much empathy; he had murdered several men before and didn’t complain about it even once. It was quite the opposite actually. He would celebrate and talk about his method of murder for several days until Jin told him to be quiet. 

There was a bit of shuffling over the line and Yoongi immediately knew it was Jungkook. If Hoseok hadn’t began talking again, Yoongi would’ve threatened Jungkook and told him to stay in position because he knew the boy well enough to know that he moved away from his stance behind the sniper rifle.

“So there’s a respirator in that mask?” Hoseok asked Jimin meticulously.

“Yes.” 

“Since you have an immune system deficiency, your parents must have some incredibly expensive respirators in your home to ensure that you can breath and stay healthy, correct?”

Yoongi had no idea what Hoseok was getting at but he trusted him enough to allow him to continue asking questions without him interfering. “Correct.”

“So why do you need so much money? If your parents could afford top notch respirators, than why are you in need of so much money that you’ll be willing to do something so illegal?” Hoseok’s tone was on the verge of mocking and serious curiosity. Jimin hesitated and looked towards his small fingers that were tapping unrhythmically against the black table sitting between him and Hoseok.

“My parents disappeared when I was sixteen. I’m nineteen now but… I haven’t been out of the house in years because of my deficiency. I needed money to survive without my parents’ income… So I decided to use hacking as a job to make money. Possibly even save enough money to get someone to find my parents one day.”

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin all sighed silently in tandem, all pulling their bottom lip between their teeth to refrain from speaking. After hearing Jimin’s brief story, they knew immediately that Hoseok was done for. The story was too close his own. Hoseok was only sixteen when he had been taken from his house at Bon-Hwa’s command because the 7 Point tracked him down after following the traces he left in the database. His parents had left him a few years before that and he lived with his older brother until he was taken.

Their father had been ready to kill Hoseok but with enough persuasion from Namjoon, Bon-Hwa decided to train Hoseok instead and use his skill. Now here Hoseok was.

“Jimin. I have to make a call really quickly,” Hoseok breathed out as if he was suddenly out of breath. 

Yoongi watched the computer screen closely as Hoseok maneuvered out of the booth to stand up. “And I advise that you stay right there. Like I said earlier…” Hoseok leaned in close to Jimin’s ear. “I only need a few seconds to end your life for good.”

Though it was barely audible, they were able to vaguely hear Jimin shakily agree to stay seated. When Hoseok had successfully made his way into the single bathroom and locked the door behind him, he took a solid deep breath and pressed 

“Namjoon-” Hoseok started.

“No, Hoseok. The answer is no,” Namjoon cut him off quickly before he could even continue to say more. “What are we going to do with the boy? He can’t even breath in fucking air.”

“But he can hack well enough to get pass each of our  _ five  _ security walls that I configured. That takes some amazing skill, Joon.”

“I agree,” Jungkook spoke up, his voice a bit inaudible because of the wind picking up. “We could easily find something for him. All he’d need to do is wear that mask.”

“They have a point, baby. We did it for Hobi.” Seokjin said, shifting on the heir’s lap to look into his eyes. That’s usually how Jin got what he wanted from Namjoon. He held Jin’s gaze for a moment, not saying anything, before he moved to look at Yoongi who was unknowingly biting at the nail of his thumb while thinking. Noticing that Yoongi was in fact almost just gnawing on skin and not his fingernail, Namjoon and Jin both reached for Yoongi’s hand, catching his attention.

“I guess I agree. I mean, the boy is skilled. The highest police authorities can’t even get past our walls. If we don’t get him into our ranks, one of those street gangs or even the fucking cops could find him and use him against us. We might as well make good use of him, right?” Yoongi said. Despite the fact that he was heavily doubting that this was the best decision, he was willing to take the risk. Because if it turned out horribly, Yoongi didn’t have a problem quickly putting a bullet in between Jimin’s perfect eyes.

“Okay. Since I’m outnumbered here… Hoseok, offer Jimin a place in the 7 Point Syndicate with excessive benefits if he would work for us. If he accepts it, bring him over to the casino and up to us so we can take a good look at him. Make it quick we don’t have all day.” With that, Namjoon ended the call. 

  
  
  


 

When Hoseok had walked off, Jimin was sure that he would throw up right then and there. He wanted to run straight through those double doors and down the street without looking back. He knew he’d be killed. Probably sniped straight through the heart. But at the moment, Jimin was sure that getting a bullet through his chest would hurt a lot less than the yearning in his heart for his brothers and parents.

When he began to feel the familiar stinging behind his eyes, he wiped at his eyes furiously and balled his fists tightly to remind himself that he needed to stay strong. Yet again, Jimin felt someone’s gaze on him and he was sure it was that employee that was taking people’s orders behind the counter. 

He hadn’t bothered to look up at the pretty boy at the counter. He hadn't looked up until he felt a presence looming over him. He was met with Hoseok scowling down at him. Standing over him was the man’s way to exert his dominance over Jimin and Jimin wanted to do nothing more than to stand up also. But for the sake of the mission, he stayed sitting, staring up at the man trepidatiously. 

Upholding the gaze between the two of them, Hoseok didn’t make any move to sit down where he was once before. Jimin wondered if he had done something wrong.

“You need money, Jimin?” 

“Y-yes.” While Jimin allowed himself to believe that he was stumbling over his words purposefully, he knew deep down that the intense apprehension in his tone and words weren’t all for pretend. He was quite afraid that he had fucked something up already. “Well I have an offer for you that will help you tremendously. I want you to join the 7 Point Syndicate. I’ll make sure that the boss pays you well, and if you do well, I might even help you find your parents one day.” 

Hoseok said this with a imperious deepness to his tone that Jimin didn’t like, but he hadn’t paid any mind to that. He had just accomplished the first part of his mission and he was honestly speechless. Then he thought of Baekhyun’s words to him while he was in the taxi.  _ When you first get there, make sure you question everything and everyone until you are well trusted and respected. You never know what their real underlying motive may be. _

So instead of allowing himself to feel that rush of pride, he stayed silent and looked at Hoseok closely. Jimin couldn’t be too cynical but he couldn’t allow himself to seem naive and gullible either because then no one would want to work with him or think highly of him. He had to prove himself despite his hinderance, both his ‘sickness’ and his innocence.

“Are you trying to set me up to get me killed? Jimin questioned from under his mask, ensuring his voice was firm. Well, as firm as a supposedly timid, afraid nineteen year old could be. “Why do you want me of all people? Someone who can’t even breathe in unpurified air.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. And I want you because you obviously have skills. You broke past five security walls, all of which were built by me. I want you to help me, Jimin. The 7 Point Syndicate even more of an empire with skills like yours.”

The way Hoseok said his name made Jimin’s breath hitch. The dominance dripping from every word that left his lips was intensifying and it intimidated him. But he did his best to stand his ground, wondering if this was the way they got all of their workers on their side. 

“What will we do if I were to say yes?” Jimin inquired. Hoseok smirked, obviously pleased with the boy’s questions.  Jimin supposed it was because he was satisfied to see that Jimin wasn’t naive and wouldn’t just jump into a circumstance without thinking, analyzing, and asking questions before acting. While Hoseok wouldn’t know this, Jimin was proud to say that it was just how Jimin was raised to be, thanks to his mother.

“I’d take you across the street and into that casino. We’d go to the top floor and I’ll present you to Young Master Namjoon and his brothers and see what they think of you. If they like you, consider yourself lucky.” Hoseok smirked at the end, seemingly amused at the thought of Bon-Hwa’s sons taking a liking to him. Jimin frowned under his mask at Hoseok’s word choice. 

‘Present him to Namjoon.’ 

He sounded more like a gift to Namjoon instead of a recruit. An object instead a living, breathing human. But he guessed that was what the men of the 7 Point Syndicate was to Namjoon and his brothers. Nothing but pieces on the chessboard for them to make moves and sacrifice for the sake of the game. For the sake of earning a victory over the opposing side. 

“Can I work with you then?” Jimin found himself blurt out suddenly. He wanted to work in hacking because that was where he could find most of the information and it was his area of expertise. Jimin was sure Hoseok worked somewhere near computers and technology in general just like Minseok did because Hoseok had mentioned that he had constructed those firewalls Jimin broke down. Jimin  _ needed  _ to work under Hoseok for this mission to go smoothly.

Hoseok chuckled. “You’ve taken a liking to me already, kid?” 

“N-no…”  Just for effect, Jimin didn’t say anything else. He wanted to give the older time to think over his proposition. He’d done it enough times to Baekhyun and Jongin to know that giving it a few moments of silence worked more times than not. 

He let it stay quiet for a second, purposefully picking with his fingers until he heard Hoseok sigh, a sign that he’d given in. “I’ll do what I can to make sure you’re working under me, alright.”

“Thank you,” Jimin smiled. Despite half of his face being hidden behind a mask, the fact that his eyes disappeared into thin lines let Hoseok know that the boy was smiling. Jimin knew he found it endearing. Even if Hoseok’s face stayed hard, his eyes softened just a bit. 

Jimin just had this charm about him.

“So?” Hoseok raised his brow, tapping his foot as he placed a firm hand on the table.

“I’ll do it.”

“Well follow me, Park Jimin.” 

Jimin wasted no time standing up to follow Hoseok out of the doors of the cafe. As he stepped outside, he felt his eyes begin to water immediately due to the sudden shift of temperature from warm to cold. Jimin stayed behind Hoseok instead of walking beside him to further feed into the man’s obvious desire to be in control and in a position of authority. The walk across the street seemed to take an hour instead of just a minute of two. It was possibly Jimin’s nerves that made the world seem to stop spinning on its axis. The temperature felt like it had dropped a full twenty degrees in just seconds. Jimin shivered.

He was snatched, quite literally, from his thoughts, when he felt a hand harshly wrap around his elbow and he was wrenched forward. “Pay attention. Be alert,” Hoseok demanded as he hauled Jimin across the street, his hand still firmly grasping the boy’s elbow. Hoseok hadn’t let go until they were entering the tall, golden, elaborate doors of the Lucky 7 casino; the grand doors embellished with traditional Korean dragons carved into the material.

When they entered, Jimin found himself marveling at the surplus of glowing, multicolored lights and the several different colors that complimented the gold that embroidered the cream colored pillars that were strategically placed all over the casino. There was loud, indistinct chatter filling the atmosphere and smiling people dressed in expensive clothing from head to toe. While Jimin knew that he most likely shouldn’t be gaping in awe at his surroundings, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the lights in particular as Hoseok led him the elevator in the middle of the casino floor. To Jimin, the lights were breathtaking. He’d never seen something like this before. Jimin, himself, didn’t even know what was so striking about the bright, colorful lights but he didn’t question it. He just enjoyed it.

Jimin vaguely heard the  _ ding  _ of the elevator because of the sudden loud  _ ka-ching  _ of some machine close by that rang in tandem with the elevator. Hoseok only let go of Jimin’s elbow when they entered the elevator, that was completely transparent on the other three sides of the cubicle, and he pressed the 5th floor button. Despite trying to resist the urge, Jimin found himself staring out of the elevator again at the brightness.

“I see you like the lights.” Hoseok’s voice wasn’t as hard as it was before. Jimin whipped his head around so quickly that he was silently thanking God that he didn’t catch whiplash or hurt his neck. He noticed that Hoseok’s face stayed hardened and expressionless even though his tone softened.

“Yeah… I’ve never seen something like this before. It’s pretty.” Jimin chuckled at himself under the mask. He sounded so freaking childish. He might as well have yelled, “Hoseokkie, look at the pretty lights!” 

“I know someone who really likes the lights of Seoul at night.” Now Hoseok’s hard expression was softening at the mentioning of this ‘someone.’ “He said that after he ‘destroyed’ his old life, he wandered into Seoul when the sun was going down. He’d said that the first thing he noticed when he arrived in the central part of Seoul was the bright, glowing, flashing lights… I might’ve taken a liken to them to after knowing him for so long.” 

Jimin wondered if Hoseok was even talking to him anymore or if he was just reminiscing out loud. To make matters even more confusing, Jimin didn’t even know how to respond. So he was eternally grateful when the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Hoseok exited the elevator with a very brief look over Jimin’s appearance. Jimin followed close behind.

All of the shapely women only seemed to take notice of Hoseok because as they passed the women, they only acknowledged Hoseok’s presence. Not even sparing Jimin a glance. He felt almost invisible. When they approached the considerably large door at the end of the hallway, Hoseok knocked twice before pushing the door open without waiting for confirmation that he could enter. 

Twisting the golden knob of the mahogany wooden door, Hoseok ushered Jimin in. If he was being completely honest with himself, Jimin was burning up and was sure he might even pass out as he shakily obliged and stepped into the room. It was a combination of his nerves, his pounding heart, and this mask that rendered the boy unable to breathe correctly. The room was more of a home office than an actual professional office which, usually, would’ve calmed Jimin a bit, but it did nothing of the sort. 

Not knowing what else to do, Jimin just stood there in the middle of the room as he was looked over and closely examined like piece of meat from a grocery store by three men situated behind a dark, mahogany desk that matched the door in a way. Only one of the men were actually sitting in a chair, his face rigid and intimidating with his blond hair swept up and back. The sides shaved. Another man with black hair that fell just over his left eye was sitting on his lap, smiling almost  _ endearingly  _ at Jimin. The last man had been leaning over the desk but moved to stand behind the others when Hoseok and Jimin entered the room. He was about Jimin’s height with blond hair.

Jimin recognized all of the men immediately. With an impeccable memory, he had long ago remembered the identities of these men. There was Namjoon, the heir and oldest son. Seokjin, his lover that the heir by no means ever tried to hide. Then there was Yoongi, the middle brother. Jimin could’ve sworn there was three brothers.

Out of the three of them, Yoongi had been staring the hardest at Jimin. Burning a hole into Jimin’s chest and agitating his nerves even further while Jimin stood there with both of his hands pressed against the small of his back. He suddenly considered running back out of the door. Was it too late to back out of this mission?

As soon as the door clicked shut, Namjoon had began talking almost as if some metaphorical timer had gone off. “Park Jimin?”

Jimin was only able to blink and press his fingernails further into his palms to warn himself to stay alert because the man’s voice was intimidating enough- to him at least- to have Jimin struggling to breathe. Not only was it his voice but it was the fact that Namjoon already knew his name. Was he being set up? Did they already know what Jongin and Baekhyun had planned and just played into their hands to kill him? Most importantly. Had he failed his brothers?

Jimin blinked several times as he tried to think of something, anything to say. 

“Y-yeah…” 

“Welcome,” the man, Jimin recognized as Seokjin, said, toying with Namjoon’s fingers almost absentmindedly. Namjoon watched his lover closely while he continued speaking. 

“Hoseok’s told me a bit about you.” Jimin regained just a small bit of his ability to breath when those words fell from Namjoon’s lips in a low, husky voice. Not one of dominance but a voice more of subtle yet overbearing authority. It reminded him of Jongin. But with Jongin, Jimin had always felt safe from the world when he heard his voice. Yet here he was, thrown into the deep depths of this cruel reality, instead, to fend for himself with only a month’s worth of skill.

“Sit down,” Seokjin cooed. Jimin watched Seokjin intertwine his and Namjoon’s fingers. It seemed that without even thinking about it, Namjoon interlocked his strong fingers with Seokjin’s slender ones. “Hoseok, get him a chair please while he wait for those two.” 

Jimin had been fighting with himself to hold Namjoon’s gaze and he was desperately losing to his own fear, so he took that chance to glance over his shoulder and watch Hoseok obediently drag a chair and place it in front of Namjoon’s desk. Jimin had somewhat hoped that Hoseok would glance at him for just a mere second and give him a reassuring look. Tell him with no words at all that he would be okay. 

But that was Chanyeol and Baekhyun that did that for Jimin. Not Hoseok. Hoseok didn’t give two fucks if Jimin was dying on the inside. Hoseok didn’t even spare him a glance. Hoseok had just gone to stand next to Yoongi who was still silently staring at Jimin from behind Namjoon. The fact that no one was here to comfort him hurt Jimin a little. Enough to have him grimacing heavily under his mask.

Jimin quickly and quietly made his way to sit in the tan cushioned chair, planting his hands firmly on his knees and his back pressed flush against the cushion of the chair. Seokjin frowned at this and stood up from his spot on Namjoon’s lap to round the desk to advance on Jimin. Namjoon seemed like he was about to say something but he didn't. He just silently watched Seokjin.

“Relax.” Seokjin ordered, when he was looming over Jimin’s sitting figure. Unlike Hoseok, Seokjin crouched down so Jimin didn’t have to strain his neck to look into the man’s eyes and there were at the same eye level. Despite finding it quite hard, Jimin managed to maneuver enough to at least look as if he had relaxed a bit.

“Why should he relax? This isn’t some therapy session.” Yoongi’s nonchalant voice startled Jimin a bit. He’d wanted to look over at Yoongi, but he could already hear the frown on his lips. Also, Seokjin’s bright eyes were the only bit of comfort in the room right now and he never wanted to let go. So Jimin continued to stare at Seokjin instead.

“Because I said so,” Seokjin retorted sharply. When Yoongi only sighed in annoyance as a response, Seokjin ignored it. “Take off your mask. I guarantee you the air in here is as pure as can be. I’m too valuable to not have respirators in my office.” Seokjin chuckled. Jimin found it pleasant. 

“Are you sure?”

“1000%”

For some reason, Jimin felt like he could trust him. He’d remembered Baekhyun’s words about not trusting anyone until he knew for sure that he could, and he wanted follow those words.. He truly did. But Seokjin looked so… genuine. Jimin was sure that Seokjin was older than him but he didn’t think Seokjin would hurt anyone. But this could all be a facade. Just like Jimin was a facade. An artifice. 

Jimin reached behind his head to undo the mask with shaking fingers. Even though he knew that it was 98% guaranteed that they wouldn’t recognize him, Jimin still feared that this situation would be that rare 2%. Because it wasn’t 100%.

The room was silent as he let the mask fall from his face and he cradled it in his hand. While staring down at his clammy hands, Jimin heard Seokjin laugh. “Thank God.” When he looked up, Seokjin was laughing but was looking over at Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi who all looked perplexed at his laughter.

“What?”

“He’s not ugly. He's actually very handsome. You have no idea how much I hate looking at our men, all of them look like they’ve been hit by a car at some point in their lives. As if the car hit them straight in the face. That’s why I hire mostly females, they’re really nice to look at… Like me.” Seokjin continued to giggle. 

Jimin searched over the other men’s faces and found that Hoseok was the only one who had remotely smiled. He was sure that was because he was standing behind Namjoon and next to Yoongi so his smirk wasn’t able to be seen by either of them. Jimin had to admit that he was also perplexed by Seokjin’s behavior and personality. Mostly because it didn’t seem like a facade. It seemed too real to be fake. 

Namjoon and Yoongi only grunted as Seokjin continued to look over Jimin’s face, even lightly caressing his cheek, until the sound of the door being opened interrupted him. All of them moved to look at the door as two men walked in. The two they must’ve been waiting for. 

Jimin recognized one of the men as the pretty boy behind the counter at the cafe and the other man from countless pictures and profiles given to him by Minseok to memorize. Jungkook. 

“Sorry, we’re late. Taehyung wanted to change clothes,” Jungkook supplied, shutting the door behind them. Namjoon only nodded his head in acknowledgement as Jungkook and ‘Taehyung’ made their way to stand with Hoseok and Yoongi. 

“Come here, Jin,” Namjoon said shortly. With reluctance written on his face along and his face twisting up, Seokjin stood, with one last grin to Jimin before he obeyed. Now it was the six of them staring at Jimin. A single desk separating them and Jimin. Them against him.

Jimin felt so, so small. So inferior to the six of them. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Namjoon began. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Um… Hoseok told me about a job with… the 7 P-Point Syndicate.” Jimin hated stuttering and stumbling over his words but he didn’t bother to even scold himself. He just allowed himself to feel… scared. Anxious and afraid.

“Do you know what the 7 Point Syndicate is?”

“Yes, sir,” Jimin uttered. 

“What is it?”

“It’s a m-mob based here in South Korea. I’ve heard about it on the n-news a few times.”

“Good.” Namjoon’s deep voice was easily filled with praise. Jimin basked in it subconsciously despite feeling like a child because of it. “Now, the majority of people in this room believe you’ll be a great asset to us. You’re hacking skills are superb and is almost on the same level as our main hacker’s. That’s why I’m offering you a job with the us. A place in our  _ family.  _ You’ll get benefits of all kind. Financial benefits, stability in life, respect, and most of all, power. Now, Jimin… Do you accept this offer?” 

Namjoon leaned forward onto the desk as if to only pressure Jimin more. But he wasn’t the only one. Seokjin had given a small smile full of… something Jimin couldn’t put a name to. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok seemed to stare even harder than they were before. Jungkook and Taehyung unusually pressed together at the shoulder. Yoongi just looked. It was almost impossible to read what Yoongi was feeling as he stared Jimin down and that made Jimin feel a bit lightheaded. Only thing he could read was the fact that Yoongi was holding his breath.

“Yes… I do.” Jimin clutched the mask in between his fingers to somehow get them to stop trembling and give himself some type of stability. He looked down at his hands for a second.

“Good. Well you might as know that  _ we  _ are the head of the 7 Point Syndicate. We are in charge of everything that goes on here. I’m Namjoon. This is my lover, Seokjin. My two brothers, Jungkook and Yoongi. And our most well trusted men, Taehyung and Hoseok. Got that?”

Jimin nodded slowly, swallowing thickly. He couldn’t vomit now. He would ruin everything if he did. He wanted to sit up straight and put some confidence in his posture but it seemed that this role was doing him some good. The role of the innocent, anxious nineteen year old with a disorder that didn't realize his potential. A nineteen year old that had been locked in a house for ten years and knew nothing about the world. Completely free to be molded and shaped in whatever way they wanted Jimin to be. 

“Good.” When Jimin looked up, he was met with a smirk plastered on Namjoon’s lips. One that was identical to Seokjin’s. “Welcome to the 7 Point Syndicate, Park Jimin.”

  
  
  
  


“Okay, okay, okay.” Jimin repeated that one word repeatedly like some mantra between his sharp heaves of breaths  as he tried to stop the constant supply of tears falling from his eyes. The boy was on the floor of his new living room letting out all of the tears that had built up since Baekhyun dropped him off in front of the Clover Cafe this evening. 

Seokjin had ordered Hoseok to drive Jimin ‘home’ after the meeting with Namjoon. Even though Jimin insisted constantly that he could take a taxi home, Hoseok still wound up driving Jimin home in a Mercedes Maybach. He’d almost forgotten to put his mask back on before they left the building but was saved by Yoongi grumbling quietly to him that he could so he ‘didn’t die before Jimin could do any real work.’

The car ride with Hoseok was silent except for Jimin occasionally telling Hoseok the directions to his little home outside of central Seoul which didn’t bother Jimin much. He enjoyed staring out of the window at sights that he’d never seen before. Specifically the lights that were full of optimism.

Jimin was sure he had calmed down from the day’s events when he had extended a thank you to Hoseok and entered the house. But as soon as Jimin locked the door and removed his anti pollution mask, he had burst into a fit of loud, hysterical tears as he sank to the floor. He didn’t know why but he knew that he just needed to cry. Jimin forced himself not to think of his brothers. He forced himself so hard but he failed.

The boy cried until he was sniffing excessively, coughing loudly, dry heaving, and even crying until he couldn’t cry tears anymore. Jimin just… let himself waddle in pity for a few minutes. He did just that until there were firm knocks on his front door he was leaning against. 

“Jimin… Open the door.” Was that Jungkook’s voice? “Let us help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you like this chapter even though I kind of hate it, haha. Sorry. 
> 
> If you don't know what an anti pollution mask looks like just go look up Jhope's mask and you'll see it. Just imagine it on Jimin. The next chapter will be here soon! I'm truly excited about this fic. It's going to be loonnggg. 
> 
> Lastly, have a great day and make sure you smile because you are valid and loved by so many more people than you think (Even me!)
> 
> Love, Your Mochi


	8. Toy Soldiers

Jimin scrambled up off of the floor and shakily grasped for the cold knob of the door. While he was ready to open the door, he looked around first. Jimin hadn’t had any time to look around the house for himself and see if there was anything that Jongin and Baekhyun left for him or anything of utter importance that were for his eyes only. Significant to the completion and success of this mission. He hadn’t even gotten to see what was in the locked room because as soon as he’d entered the home, he had crumbled into bits and pieces. 

Hating the fact that Jungkook was about to see him at his worse when they’d only ‘met’ three hours prior to this, Jimin sighed and pressed his head against the cold door. “Is there something that you need, Jungkook?” He called softly through the thickness of the door, his small hand still gripping the knob tightly.

“We came to talk to you about something, but we heard you…Yeah…” Jungkook trailed off. Jimin wanted to bang his head up against the door for being so careless.

“Okay… I’m going to open the door but… I need you to take off your shoes and leave them there and hurry in. Please. The air outside isn’t very clean,” he sniffed, releasing a long huff of breath afterwards in attempt to pick up the scarce pieces of confidence he had left.

“Got it.” That voice wasn’t smooth like Jungkook’s, instead it was quite deep. Yet it wasn’t rough. It was more of a comforting deepness to this voice. He hadn’t recognized the voice but he still assumed it was Taehyung. Even though Jimin had only been around them for less than thirty minutes in total, it was more than obvious that the two of them were close. Whether that be as best friends or lovers, Jimin didn’t know.

“They’re off. Now open the door, Jimin.” 

He obliged immediately, twisting the lock before pulling open the door just enough for the two of them to slip in quickly. Jimin had only caught a quick glimpse of the outside world but he was still able to notice that the sky had darkened significantly and subconsciously wondered what time it was now and how long he’d been crying. Yet again, Jimin scolded himself.

Jungkook and Taehyung rushed into the house seeing that Jimin’s mask was off, knowing that Seokjin would probably beat the two of them to death if they allowed Jimin to get sick. Shutting and locking the door once again, Jimin turned around to find both men looking around the small house. No doubt feeling a bit claustrophobic from everything being just a few steps away from the front door. 

“Why’re you here again?” Jimin asked, his voice low and sore because of his constant dry heaving just minutes before. He used the backs of his hands to roughly rub at his reddened eyes, both to clear his vision and for effect. 

It was no secret to Jimin that all of them- especially Seokjin- saw him as a child. Someone that needed intense caring for and constant reassurance. But they weren’t caring for Jimin because they truly  _ cared  _ about him and his wellbeing _.  _ Jimin wasn’t even a someone to them. He was a  _ something.  _ Something they were going to shape and mold into something so perfect and dangerous for the wellbeing of the 7 Point Syndicate. 

He knew this and was only playing into this role because it made the job easier to do. But even though Jimin knew this very well, he still felt his heart soften a bit when there was a slight, barely noticeable crack in their demeanor when they took witness to Jimin’s tear stricken cheeks, reddened eyes, and roughened voice. 

Sometimes Jimin wondered if this was even a role he was playing. Or was this really who he was and how he was feeling?

“We came over here to talk to you about some important business,” Taehyung answered, stuffing his hands a bit roughly into his jeans pockets, juxtaposing Jungkook’s more professional attire. Jimin’s throat grew dry as Taehyung grabbed for Jungkook’s arm, pulling him towards the black leather sofa in the middle of the small living room space. Jimin hated that sofa. He loathed leather in particular. Cushion was what he prefered. 

“I know this is incredibly unprecedented considering the fact that we haven’t even officially met yet,” Jungkook added quickly, seeing Jimin’s face twist in perplexity at Taehyung’s use of the phrase ‘important business.’ “But we’re asking you to come on a mission with us.” Jungkook stayed standing, supporting his weight on the back of the sofa while Taehyung slowly sat on the sofa. He pat the spot next to him, beckoning Jimin to sit next to him. He slowly obliged, moving from his spot next to the door to sit next to Taehyung on the sofa.

The feeling of having Jungkook behind him was enough to have Jimin’s palms sweating. Even if Jungkook was the softer one at first glance, he knew not to underestimate the boy and his abilities. He’d already witnessed what happened to people who underestimated his brothers so he knew Jungkook would most likely react in the same manner as his brothers.

“You’re coming on a mission with us,” Taehyung corrected. “We aren’t asking, we’re telling.”

“Taehyung.” Jungkook’s voice was threatening and low as a warning, clearly disapproving with Taehyung’s delivery of the situation. Taehyung only shrugged nonchalantly. Jimin easily took note of the fact that Jungkook was the more empathetic of the two of them and possibly the younger too. He stored that information in the back of his mind for possible use later. 

“Why are you choosing me? How do you know if you could even trust me?” Jimin questioned in a hushed voice. While Jimin would’ve much rather been looking into Jungkook’s eyes, for he had a natural comfort deep within his eyes similar to Seokjin, he ended up looking into Taehyung’s hooded eyes as the next best thing.

“We don’t know if we could trust you. And we  _ don’t  _ trust you. Which is why you’re coming on this mission with us in a few days,” Jungkook answered. Jimin could’ve sworn that he felt Jungkook’s breath tickle the hairs on the back of his neck. 

“We could just put you under the watch of someone who has been loyal to the 7 Point for some time now. Yeah? It would be much easier that way. We’ll let them report to us how loyal you are, your progress, and much more while you are working for them. But there’s a harsh reality that we have to take into consideration. You’re young, innocent, talented, and disabled. They may use you, exploit you, possibly rape you to make you fear them, and even might sell you for a profit as if you’re some toy soldier for their entertainment. Simply because that is what you’ll be to them. A pretty toy for their enjoyment.”

Taehyung’s voice was more than just intimidating. That intimidation only heightened when Jimin felt Taehyung lean a little closer. Now the warm breaths that left his mouth with each words tickled Jimin’s cheek. 

Jimin closed his eyes.

“But we need you, Jimin.” Jungkook reached to gently yet firmly rest his hands on Jimin’s shoulders. “You’re young like the two of us. All of the older men are loyal to our daddy, not Namjoon. So we need someone with your talents and potential that’s loyal to us. Equal to us.  _ That  _ is why we want you to come on missions with us. So we can trust you and you can trust us. I mean… what’s a family, if there is no trust? Right Jimin?” 

Jungkook was similar to Chanyeol in several ways. He was good with words, always knowing the right words to say and even the correct tone of voice to get the outcome he wanted in a situation. Maybe it was because he was the youngest of the three brothers and was most likely spoiled beyond anyone’s understanding that he had such a skill. The use of the word ‘family’ in such an endearing way was an obvious attempt to target Jimin’s weakness. His heart and emotions. Jungkook knew that Jimin wanted a family and would play on that desire as much as he needed. 

Jimin noted that Jungkook was also very touchy just like Chanyeol. As Jungkook spoke, his hands never left Jimin’s body. Whether it be caressing at his shoulders, scratching ‘lovingly’ at his neck and scalp, and he even nuzzled his nose into Jimin’s silver strands of hair at one point. The gesture made him shiver. The touches served both as comfort and something close to a threat.

“Yes, Jungkook. You’re right” Jimin opened his eyes again. “I want to trust you both… So what type of mission will this be?”

“Something very simple. A simple poisoning at a strip club and gathering some info for blackmail,” Taehyung supplied, leaning back fully onto the couch, seemingly carefree now that he had Jimin’s confirmation. “You’ll be with us so you won’t have to worry about not knowing what to do. We’ll be there to guide you.”

“Jimin… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s in that room over there? It seems like you need a key to get in there.” Jimin turned around to face Jungkook who was staring off in the direction of the door. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way Jimin couldn’t quite read, but it could mean trouble.

“That’s my office,” Jimin uttered, saying the first thing that came to mind. He knew there was some truth to that, but he didn’t know to what extent. It was most likely decorated to look like a normal home office with a few traits of Jimin to make it looked used for the last few years. But what bothered Jimin was that Jongin and Baekhyun had probably left something for him somewhere. No. Not probably. There was an 100% chance that they had left something for Jimin as encouragement because they knew Jimin best. From back to front, inside and out. 

“Would you mind letting us in there to look around a bit?” Taehyung suggested. Jimin knew it was coming. The curiosity. The desire to know Jimin. Inside. And out. Starting with his ‘house.’ One of the best ways to know a person was the condition of one’s home, right?

“Um…” He hesitated, averting his eyes to the single white and purple vase in the middle of the coffee table. He blinked slowly. “Sure… Let me go get the key.” As Jimin moved to stand, both men watched him closely. Watching for any weird habits or idiosyncrasies of his because according to Namjoon everyone had one. Taehyung could keep a straight face but his fingers and hands would always become jittery when he was uncertain. Jungkook tended to tap his feet repeatedly. Seokjin and Namjoon usually ran their hands through their hair constantly. Yoongi and Hoseok were scratchers, discreetly scratching at whatever was in front of them, even themselves, when they were anxious. 

Jimin. They noticed he seemed to  _ twitch  _ and shiver _.  _ Well specifically his hands twitched. As they watched Jimin walk towards a door they assumed was his bedroom, Taehyung noticed Jimin’s fingers seemed to jerk and twitch periodically. He nodded, pleased that Jimin’s idiosyncrasy wasn’t something that would be too much of a hindrance to jobs to come. 

When Jimin returned, his right hand balled around the small silver key, he motioned for the two men to follow him to the locked door. Jimin tried to ignore their looming presence over him and suddenly hated how short he was compared to them. He pressed the key into the lock and turned it abruptly. The loudness of the lock opening startled him a bit, but he paid no mind to his anxiousness and opened the door. He blindly searched for the light switch. With just a few pats to the wall, he flicked on the lights.

To say the least, Jimin was relieved. 

It was a simple yet small office that consisted of a dark wooden spacious desk with a state of the art computer with three monitors sitting on top with a large cushioned rolling chair sitting in the middle of the quaint room as if someone had been sitting in it recently. There was a black, metal file cabinet in the far corner of the room that Jimin made a mental note to look through later. 

“So this is where you do the hacking, I see,” Jungkook said. 

“Yeah,” Jimin answered shortly. 

Jungkook and Taehyung roamed around the small room until they ended up behind the desk while Jimin stayed standing next to the doorway, letting them search the room and hoping that nothing was out of place. When Taehyung knit his eyebrows together and reached for something on the desk, Jimin almost stopped breathing. 

“There’s a note here. What is it?” Taehyung questioned, waving it at Jimin. 

Jimin had basically ran over to join the two men behind the desk to retrieve the note. It had to be from Jongin and Baekhyun, no doubt. It scared Jimin even more when the two of them scowled at the contents of the note. 

“What the hell does that even say?” 

Taking the note into his hand, Jimin realized that the note was written in English. Purposefully. 

_ The file cabinet is locked and the key is in the kitchen under your coffee machine. Everything you need to know to get in contact with us is in there. Remember that we believe in you, Jiminie. We love you. _

Jimin recognized Jongin’s slanted writing anywhere but knew that Baekhyun configured the note because Baekhyun knew English, not Jongin.

“It’s a note that a client of mine left for me to remind me of everything she needed changed in the police’s database.” The lie rolled off of his tongue so smoothly and naturally that he almost believed the lie himself.

“You hack police databases?” 

“Y-yeah.”

Jungkook nodded, looking impressed. Even the silent praise made Jimin keen a little.

Taehyung noticed Jimin twitch so harshly that his entire body jerked and his face twisted up for a second. The suddenness of it bothered, concerned, and annoyed Taehyung all at once.

“Why’re you still so nervous? We’ve been here long enough for you to have calmed down by now, right?” Taehyung questioned taking a seat in the rolling chair. Another thing that Jimin could add to things that he knew about Taehyung from just that day of knowing him was that he didn’t like to stand for very long and would take a seat wherever and whenever he could. 

“I usually don’t let anyone into my home. Let alone my office,” Jimin averted his eyes away towards the blank walls. But just as he had turned his head to look away, there was a pair of hands cradling his cheeks and turning his face to look forward again. The grip on his face wasn’t rough or threatening but was firm enough to let Jimin know that the owner of these hands were serious. 

Jungkook was staring at Jimin with a benign smile. This boy was  _ so  _ similar to Seokjin, sharing even that seemingly gentle, endearing smile that meant something completely different or much more than they were letting on. The similarities between Jungkook and Seokjin were almost frightening.

This smile was nothing new to Jimin. This same smirk ran through Jimin’s family it seemed. His mother, Asami, had that smile. Baekhyun. Even Jongin. Jimin wondered if he had the ability to scare and intimidate someone with just a simple, wide eyed smile. 

“There’s no need to be nervous around us anymore. We approve of you. And if you prove that we can trust and rely on you, we’ll be a family. Brothers. And brothers aren’t nervous around one another. Right Jiminie?”

“Yes, Jungkook. Brothers are comfortable around each other.”

  
  
  
  


There were two little toy soldiers in each of Yoongi’s hands. They were clad in camouflage from head to toe with a bright smile on their faces, a symbol of past achievements on their part. Usually Yoongi would smile, even if only briefly, at the thought of how much he used to love these things. As a child, he’d carry them in his backpack at school, sit them on the table when he was having dinner, and even take them in the bath with him. The little soldiers meant so much to him that he had even taken them along with him when he had ‘destroyed’ his old life and entered his new one. He remembers clutching the two fun sized men in his blood stained hands as he followed the gravel path into the glowing, central part of Seoul. 

But looking at them now after so many years of being stored away in his end table, Yoongi suddenly hated them. He tightened his grip on the old hunks of plastic, desperately wanting to burn them until they were nothing at all. Just ashes. Soldiers reminded him of the police. Law enforcement. How many times had he relied on the law enforcement and instead of saving him, they’d left him all alone? Shutting that metaphorical door in his face. At one point in his life, Yoongi could barely look in the mirror after a shower because of the several ugly scars and burns inhabiting his body. A constant reminder of the beatings and the tears that followed them.

A constant reminder that the police allowed it to happen to him. And possibly many other kids like him. No doubt that there was. 

Soldiers were no different from the police and when Yoongi thought about it deeply enough, soldiers were worse. They were praised for their supposed efforts to serve and protect their country at the expense of the lives of the innocent. To Yoongi, soldiers were murderers that were falsely and unfairly put on a pedestal for, so called, “protecting their country and its citizens.” That was complete bullshit to Yoongi. They dropped bombs, invaded entire counties, and murdered families just to come back and be given medals. Soldiers disgusted him. 

The sound of his bedroom door being opened caught his attention and he loosened his grip on the toys, savoring the light burn of his palms from squeezing the plastic so tightly. Hoping it would somehow burn away from the heat of his rage. Yoongi was sitting in his favorite, cushioned chair in front of his large window, staring out at the skyline of Seoul just like he did every night. The faint glow of central city Seoul below the window never failed to comfort Yoongi.

“You still do this every night?” The question was more rhetorical than anything and filled with a rare hint of amusement. This fact alone let Yoongi know that Namjoon was in a good mood and had fully unwinded from the stress that the day usually brought. 

“Yup. It’s how I destress,” Yoongi chuckled. “Looking out at the night sky. I can see some of the lights too.” Namjoon’s tall figure finally came into view as he sat in the chair next to Yoongi that was also facing the large window. There was only the dim light of the floor lamp in the corner as lighting which made the atmosphere even more comforting. Namjoon was in plaid pajama pants and a simple white tee and when he sank into the cushioned chair, he sighed loudly in satisfaction. His process of relaxation was finally complete.

“You know, I still remember when me and Daddy saw you sleeping on that bench that day,” Namjoon reminisced quietly. “I was going to convince him to call the cops for you but then I saw blood splatter. I didn’t know what happened, but I figured that you probably didn’t want to talk to the police if you hadn’t went straight there in the first place. So I begged Daddy to take you with us, at least for a day.”

“I was scared,” Yoongi admitted, glancing down at those soldiers in his palm again. “And infuriated. And so… sad.”

“Of course. I mean, you’d just escaped from a jail cell, of sorts, on your birthday. A day that’s supposed to be filled with happiness and getting everything you want.”

“All I wanted was a fucking cake, Joon.” Namjoon noticed the hurt in Yoongi’s voice but didn’t mention it, knowing he’d only get denied and possibly kicked out of his room for annoying his younger brother.

“Really?” Namjoon had sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to look at Yoongi more closely. Still, Yoongi had his attention focused strictly on the dark sky on the other side of that window. Despite not being able to look him in the eye, Namjoon could see the inexplicable amount of anger and rage written on his face. 

“Yeah… I liked cake a lot when I was young because when I went to school, kids would bring cake for the entire class. It used to be so fucking delicious to me. I mostly liked how they were so happy that it was  _ their  _ birthday cake. And I wanted that.” Yoongi chuckled bitterly at the memory. He was quite surprised at how hard his heart clenched while thinking about it. Remembering the yearning in his heart for a cake. The stupid disappointment when there was nothing on the table when he’d awaken that morning. The feelings felt so  _ fresh  _ almost as if it had happened yesterday instead of ten years ago. It shocked him because he was so sure that he’d gotten over it. He was over that stupid fucking cake…

“I thought you hated cake. You literally pitched a piece at the wall once.” There was cheerful lilt to Namjoon’s voice in attempt to lighten the tone of the conversation but that failed.

“I hate the  _ thought  _ of cake,” Yoongi admitted. 

Finally, Yoongi looked over at Namjoon who was looking back at him with a blank expression. While a normal person wouldn’t think much of it, Yoongi knew that it meant that Namjoon was actually thinking. 

“Those soldiers.” Namjoon motioned at Yoongi’s fisted hands, the heads of the toys peeking out just above Yoongi’s fingers as his own fingers rubbed at his chin. “I remember you had them when we found you. Why do you still have them? I was sure you would’ve thrown them away a long time ago.” 

Yoongi hesitated. He didn’t really have an answer. The soldiers were just parts of his past that he claimed he wanted to stay connected to. But, in reality, he knew that wasn’t true. He hated these soldiers with a passion. Even if they were just toys, he felt like they were mocking him. Looking down at the soldiers again, his heart clenched once more. “I’m not sure why I still have them.”

“You wanna burn ‘em?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow, with a knowing tilt of his lips. He even reached down to pat his pajama pants pocket, tapping the heavy, cold lighter through the fabric, just for added effect. Even though it wasn’t needed. This was Yoongi he was talking to after all.

“Hell yeah, I wanna burn these bitches,” Yoongi laughed tossing the pieces of plastic onto the table in front of them both. “It’ll be nice to start a fire right now and watch these stupid toys burn away.”

“I know, I know. But, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow though. It’s late and Seokjin would be even more upset if I left tonight to burn some toys.”

“Where’s Seokjin anyway?”

“He’s taking a shower. He refused to let me take one with him because he’s still upset that I didn’t agree with him earlier. I swear he has me wrapped his pinky finger.” Yoongi found it peculiar that Namjoon was aware of how whipped he was for Seokjin and had never done anything to try to change it. 

“About Jimin?”

“Yeah. However, I see exactly what all of you were trying to say, now. The boy has potential. And quoting Jin, it’s much easier to make art on a blank canvas than it is to make art on an used canvas. Which is true. He already has skills, we just need to work on his confidence and social skills. Mainly, at least. I’ve decided to keep him around Hoseok instead of one of Daddy’s men. I’m pretty sure they’ll chew him up and swallow him whole.” 

The mentioning of Jimin made Yoongi slip into his thoughts again. If he was being completely honest, Jimin annoyed him. He hated the sheer weakness that oozed from Jimin’s demeanor as the boy twitched and shivered constantly in that chair.. But Yoongi could deal with fear, what pissed him off the most about the boy was the fact that, like everyone was saying, he had so much  _ potential.  _ Jimin could be so much but he just didn’t realize it. And that alone, made Yoongi all the more interested in Jimin despite his weakness.

“You’ve taken a liking to him, haven’t you?” Namjoon inquired quite suddenly. 

“What?”

“Don’t play coy. I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since Hoseok started working with you.”

“Hoseok is the closest I’ll ever get to having a friend. That’s different. Plus, I’ve been trying to give Hoseok some space, he’s had his eye on Jokwon from that strip club.”

“Not surprised. He’s cute and pliable. Perfect for Hoseok,” Namjoon commented. In his peripheral, he watched Yoongi closely. Yoongi didn’t make a sound of acknowledgement nor did he move a muscle. Namjoon quickly took notice to that, realizing yet another thing about his brother. Yoongi cared about Hoseok, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Well, you can have Jimin if you want. But, and I’m quoting Seokjin again, don’t scare the boy and take care of him if you do decide you want him.”

“I do what I want,” Yoongi answered defiantly.

“Then you deal with the wrath of Seokjin by yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” After that, the two of them chuckled. The next twenty minutes were silent as they both stared out of the window. 

Seoul was even more beautiful because of the sheer fact that he had control over it. And as he’d come to learn, control and power made everything better. And owning it with his two brothers made him feel unstoppable.

  
  
  
  


As soon as the clock at the bottom corner of his computer screen said 9:30, Jaebum had practically jumped up from his rolling chair and rushed for the door of his office. He was hoping that his predictions had been correct and Jinyoung’s shift did end at 9:30 just like his did. Locking his door behind him just in case, Jaebum made his way down the hall as fast as he could without fully sprinting. 

He’d caught a glimpse of Youngjae leaving his own tiny office, who had shot him a wide grin and beckoned Jaebum over with a sweet tilt of his head, but he, unfortunately, had to quickly dismiss the rookie with a quick wave. Jaebum definitely noticed the way Youngjae’s smile melted into a frown but convinced himself that Youngjae would just have to wait a few minutes. No matter how much he wanted to kiss that pout away.

Making it to Jinyoung’s office, relieved that the door was still opened, Jaebum entered and quickly shut the door behind him with a bit of stumble. Jinyoung was actually in the middle of gathering a few files to take home for the night when Jaebum came in. The fact that Jaebum had rushed in with such urgency concerned him and the usual scowl on Jinyoung’s face deepened. This had to be something of great importance if Jaebum of all people was rushing into his office about it.

“What is it? You got an urgent case just now?” Jinyoung asked, moving to sit back in his chair and disregarding his process of packing up his things.

“No… I know you’re probably gonna hate me for asking you this when you’re about to leave and all-”

“Well I was supposed to be going to Jackson’s apartment right after I left here but he could wait. What’s the question, Jaebum? You can pull that chair up over here if you want.” 

“Choi Jae-Wook,” Jaebum said, suddenly completely out of breath as he pulled the chair from the corner. As Jaebum sat himself down on the other side of Jinyoung’s desk, Jinyoung smirked and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I see you finally wanna know the connection between Youngjae’s dad and the 7 Point Syndicate, yeah? Finally. I was waiting for you to wake up.”

Jaebum didn’t like Jinyoung’s mocking tone by far, but he had to admit that after Jinyoung had dropped this bomb on him in the parking lot a month ago, not to mention him leaving without another word, Jaebum couldn’t get it out of his mind. It seemed as if that had halted his ability to get closer to Youngjae. The two had gone on a few dates since that night and it was safe to say that the two were exclusively dating after a particular heated make out session between the two right against Youngjae’s apartment door. Despite how much he’d wanted to go further, Jaebum couldn’t help but feel like his relationship with the rookie was just a ticking time bomb as he remembered Jinyoung’s words. He didn’t even know if it would deteriorate when the timer went off but just the thought of having to deal directly with the 7 Point Syndicate was enough for Jaebum to stop Youngjae from unbuckling his pants that night. 

Jaebum had came up with the lame, overused excuse that he didn’t want to rush their relationship. While the explanation clearly annoyed Youngjae, the rookie simply said he understood and insisted Jaebum stay the night anyway. 

While the two conversed over Youngjae’s special tea, both dressed in Youngjae’s pajamas again, they’d gotten on the topic of family traditions. Jaebum told Youngjae about how his mother hated cooking when he was a child and left that duty to his father which he found really ironic. That led Youngjae to tell a story about his own father and what the man did for Youngjae and his brother every Christmas. Just the mentioning of this man, knowing his possible connection to that empire, made Jaebum’s blood run cold and his mind go blank. If he were asked to repeat what Youngjae had been speaking about, Jaebum wouldn’t be able to tell you absolutely anything at all.

That had happened about two weeks ago and now Jaebum needed answers.

“Look, I just need to know what you know. I can’t get any closer to Youngjae when I keep thinking that he has some type of connection to the 7 Point Syndicate that he’s not telling me about.” Jaebum hated to sound so frantic and  _ emotional  _ but this meant something to him. A lot. “What the hell do you know about Choi Jae-Wook?”

Jinyoung stared at him for a second longer, challenging Jaebum it seemed. But that didn’t last long as Jinyoung bent down in his chair to presumably look through the file cabinet that Jaebum knew was under his desk. “Did you hear that Jae-Wook was supposed to receive a medal this year for his service to this station for so many years?” Jinyoung asked smoothly as he yanked a file cabinet open and shuffled through it. 

“Yeah. I was supposed to be presenting him with the award but I was told that it was postponed until further notice.” 

“It was postponed because there were some interesting files dropped on Jackson’s desk about a week ago.” Jinyoung hummed approvingly as he pulled out a manilla folder and placed it a bit too forcibly on his desk between him and Jaebum. The word “INVESTIGATE” written in big bold letters across the front of the folder. It was a little intimidating, only worsening his anxiety. If Jaebum wasn’t in such a bad mood, he probably would’ve laughed at himself for being so vulnerable and protective. All over this rookie.

“Go on look through it,” Jinyoung pushed, straightening up in his chair once again. Jaebum obeyed, beginning to flip through the folder, unconsciously holding his breath.

“Jinyoung…” Jaebum uttered, cocking one of his thick eyebrows. First, there were pictures of Jae-Wook. Some of these pictures weren’t recent judging by the fact that the man looked a lot younger than he did now. Instead of thin, mostly gray hair, Jae-Wook had a thick head of jet black hair. Other pictures were more recent. He noted that in some photographs he was talking to suited men. To anyone else, it would look like the two men were just having a conversation but Jaebum knew better and just by their posture, he could tell something was off. Jaebum simply flipped past the pictures of the officer casually speaking to men and women because he hadn’t seen any importance in them. 

After closely examining the pictures, he’d put them aside, now looking over the financial records of Jae-Wook. The only thing that had been out of the ordinary was that multiple checks that were deposited into Jae-Wook’s account from the same person. The person went by the name Min Beomsoo. 

“Wait… How? This is saying that Jae-Wook accepted bribes from several different foster families and even some from a few street gangs. How do you we even know if this information is true. You said it was mysteriously dropped on Jackson’s desk. This could easily be someone who just wants revenge on Jae-Wook.”

“Correct. Which is why I asked Mark to do some more digging to ensure that this evidence was something that was in fact true.” Jinyoung maneuvered his chair closer, resting his elbows on the desk. “When you flip past those financial records, you’ll see some database records from about ten years ago. It shows all of the homes he was dispatched to and the name of the caller that the 911 dispatcher recorded… Tell me whose name you see the most on there?” 

Jaebum didn’t finish looking over the financial records and immediately looked at the spreadsheet listing the date, house address, and the name of the caller. Jaebum had only looked at the paper for a split second. Barely that. “Min Yoongi…”Jaebum didn’t even know if Yoongi’s name was listed the most; he had only said it out of shock that the boy’s name was on the paper in the first place. “Jae-Wook was dispatched to Min Yoongi’s house…” As he scanned the paper, he had confirmed that Yoongi’s name was listed the most on the paper as the caller. “Multiple times…”

“Nine times to be exact,” Jinyoung informed with a firm, hard voice. Jaebum glanced up for a second to see if Jinyoung was clenching his jaw because it sounded like so. And indeed, Jinyoung was. “Over the course of just one and a half months, Yoongi called for help  _ nine times.  _ Yet nothing ever came of it.”

“Why not though?”

“Yoongi’s uncle bribed him. Min Beomsoo bribed Jae-Wook every time Yoongi called so no reports were ever made back then.”

Jaebum was quiet as he looked over the paper again. Another name stuck out to him. “Oh Sehun… Jae Wook was dispatched to him too?”

‘Yes. Oh Sehun also called several times but,  _ surprisingly,  _ nothing came from that either. In fact, all of these callers are children that called the police but nothing ever came from the case. The date that Jae-Wook was dispatched matches up with the days that checks were deposited into his account. The bitch had been taking bribes to stay quiet.” Jinyoung’s voice was dripping with passive aggressive sarcasm and anger that caught Jaebum’s attention. He wondered if Jinyoung felt a personal connection to all of this. 

The office was quiet for a few minutes. The atmosphere getting colder and more uncomfortable by the second. Jaebum was struggling to absorb all of this new information and, more importantly, make an acceptable conclusion. No. He could easily make a conclusion. Choi Jae-Wook was a corrupted officer that allowed several, possibly hundreds, of children to stay in abusive households for a few hundred dollars. But he didn’t want to believe this. Because he was Youngjae's father.

“Do you think that those pictures and financial records were from Min Yoongi?” 

“Of-fucking-course they were. I’m surprised he didn’t target Jae-Wook earlier but then I came across a note that was left at the back of the folder that made it all make sense.” Jinyoung reached for his desktop computer keyboard before moving it out of the way and pulling a yellow sticky note from under it. He slid it towards Jaebum slowly, locking eyes with him expectantly. Jaebum averted his attention from the folder to the sticky note written in precise handwriting.

_ Soldiers are rewarded for murder and invasion of the innocent. It’s truly unfair and misleading. So, I’m taking it upon myself to ensure that this soldier in particular is not rewarded but punished for his murder and invasion of so many children’s childhood. _

Jaebum fiddled with the note. “Yoongi’s the only one who hates law enforcement like this. He waited until he was about to receive a reward before he took it upon himself to destroy his career and reputation.” Jaebum frowned as he reread the note several times. The note was oozing with pure anger and sheer rage. But mostly, a desire for revenge. “What are we going to do? Are we going to put Jae-Wook into witness protection or something?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Jinyoung stated simply. The tenseness of his face was suddenly replaced by an expression of nonchalance and mocking amusement. “Why should I? My job is to protect the innocent. Mostly the children. I work day and night to put an end to the Lotus Syndicate and the 7 Point Syndicate for the protection of _children._ ” Jinyoung’s voice was getting louder. His face becoming tense and hardened again as he clenched and gritted his teeth. “I’m not going to worry myself for a cop that couldn’t give two shits about what happens to children. He took bribes from abusive families. He picked money over their wellbeing. If he would’ve done his job, Min Yoongi wouldn’t be like this. Oh Sehun wouldn’t either. Who knows what happened to the rest of em?  I refuse to help this sorry ass excuse for a cop. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn’t receive that award…”

Jaebum was silent. Not knowing what else to say. He didn’t want to agree because, again, this was Youngjae’s dad. But he did agree. Wholeheartedly and without a doubt, he agreed.

Jinyoung scoffed. “Choi Jae-Wook made his bed on the blood, sweat, and tears of those kids and now he’s laying in it. And I’m going to let him lie there believing that he has it all and wait for Yoongi to get the redemption on behalf of all of those kids Jae-Wook has fucked over. And in all honesty… I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you all like this chapter! I really would like to talk to some of you (I mean if you want to lol). If you want to talk, I have a twitter (I don't use it very often) and a tumblr. 
> 
> My tumblr is https://ikigai-mochi.tumblr.com/  
> (My username is just ikigai-mochi if you just wanna look it up on the search bar you know.)
> 
> My twitter is https://twitter.com/J_I_Ikigai  
> (I don't know anything about twitter at all but I put it there just in case.) 
> 
> You can ask me a question, submit something, you can even just say wassup or complain. I don't mind at all because your Mochi loves you all. I hope you know just how special, unique, lovely, and amazing you all are. 
> 
> Love,   
> Your Mochi


	9. A Game For You

It took about four or five taps on Yoongi’s shoulder for him to actually be disturbed from his sleep. He shifted around in his bed before his body went stiff again and he slipped right back into the confines of sleep. Or he tried to. The persistent tapping not only continued but increased in force when whoever the hell was trying to wake him realized that Yoongi was trying to go back to sleep. 

Yoongi hated being woken up, that was no surprise or secret to anyone living in this suite. Waking him up was no doubt going to be the catalyst for a horrible day for everyone because Yoongi was nothing short of an asshole when he was grumpy. So no one ever took the liberty to wake Yoongi, except Hoseok. 

Yoongi gave Hoseok a pass on a lot of things. Allowing Hobi to cuddle him after their occasional nights of pleasure even if Yoongi hated cuddling. Letting Hoseok bathe with him even if Yoongi wanted to shower. So the unlimited passes that Yoongi gave Hoseok extended to also waking him up. When Hoseok woke Yoongi, he’d be a bit grumpy, but never for a long time.

But this persistent tapping wasn’t Hoseok. 

Hobi would kiss, caress, and snuggle Yoongi until he’d woken up to Hoseok’s soft chuckles at whatever weird contortion Yoongi’s face would make that day. But this was persistent, annoying, irritating tapping, and it was achieving nothing more than pissing Yoongi off. 

“Stop. Fucking. Tapping. Me,” Yoongi growled, fisting the velvety white sheets in his pale fingers. When the tapping didn’t stop, Yoongi was sure that this was Namjoon’s annoying ass trying to wake him. Namjoon was the only one who didn’t listen to Yoongi’s demands, besides Seokjin, but Jin would’ve probably pinched Yoongi as soon as he cursed if it was Seokjin. Namjoon just continued to tap him.

“Then wake the hell up already,” Namjoon growled in return. Now the older was full blown shaking Yoongi’s body until Yoongi’s patience ran too thin and snapped. 

“What the hell do you want!” Yoongi moved from lying on his stomach to lying on his back just so he could glare angrily at his older brother. But Namjoon paid no attention to Yoongi’s irritation and only took it upon himself to sit next to Yoongi now that the younger was awake and there was space to sit.

“Did Taehyung stay over with Jungkook last night?” Namjoon inquired, his tone deep and stern. Just his tone let Yoongi know that this was a business matter. 

Despite the fact that he was still clad in Seokjin’s favorite pink pajamas pants and a simple white tee, it was obvious that Namjoon had been awake and working before he decided to wake Yoongi. Usually, Namjoon was quite passive in the mornings. His voice was always a little lighter when he woke up; the man was overall pleasant in the morning, juxtaposing directly with Yoongi’s attitude. 

If Yoongi would ever ask Namjoon why he was always so happy when he woke up, he was sure that the older would say something relating to waking up next to Seokjin. There was no doubt about the fact that Namjoon loved Seokjin more than anything. He was quite sure that if Seokjin wanted Namjoon to even leave the mafia business and run away together to live some fairy tale life, Namjoon would agree. Because he was just  _ that  _ in love with Jin. 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi groaned, rubbing roughly at his eyes to wake himself up and occupy his hands. Because Yoongi wanted nothing more than to punch his brother straight in the jaw. “I think so. Why is it so important that you had to wake me he hell up?”

“Have you noticed how close those two have gotten?” Namjoon questioned curiously. “It’s a bit past the ‘best friend’ stage that those two have been doing for the last few years.”

Yoongi moved his hands from over his eyes to glare at Namjoon with the corner of his lip upturned into a scowl. “What? Now the only one who can like men in here is you?” 

“No, of course not. I don’t care who Jungkook’s fucking. Daddy might but I definitely don’t,” Namjoon huffed with a roll of his eyes. “The fact that it’s Taehyung of all people is the problem that I have.”

Yoongi sucked in a breath of irritation. Was Namjoon being serious right now? He woke Yoongi from his sleep so he could be the typical, overprotective big brother to Jungkook. It was bad enough the youngest was a brat; he didn’t need Namjoon doing the same. “Why is it such a problem, Joon?”

“Tae knows too much.” 

That got Yoongi’s attention almost instantaneously. He quickly moved to sit up to wake himself up fully. Now he understood. Tae indeed knew too much.  _ Way  _ too many things that Jungkook couldn’t know about just yet. If it was up to them, Namjoon and Yoongi would like if the youngest didn’t ever have to know about these things, but sooner or later, the secrets of this family and Bon Hwa would come into the light. 

“If Jungkook and Taehyung get into some kind of relationship, we risk Taehyung telling Jungkook everything,” Namjoon continued with a deep look of concern on his face. “You know how good Jungkook is at getting what he wants. A few promises and choice words and Jungkook will have Taehyung doing whatever he wants. That’s what love does to you.” 

Yoongi gnawed on the inside of his cheek until he tasted a bit of copperly blood on his tongue, prompting him to stop chewing his cheek raw. “But how would Jungkook even know what to ask for if he doesn’t know anything?”

“Kook is getting more and more involved in this business. He’s gonna come across something and the first person he will go to is Taehyung. The man will be so smitten, if he isn’t already, that he will just give in without a fight.”

Yoongi exhaled slowly but sharply. What the hell were they supposed to do about this without being too suspicious and creating trouble? Yoongi had no idea. His initial idea would be to simply get rid of Taehyung by any means possible, but he knew that it would tear Jungkook into pieces if Taehyung were gone. 

“I don’t know what to do, bro,” Yoongi said simply. There was silence lingering between the two of them. Yet again, Yoongi could hear the metaphorical gears turning in Namjoon’s head. 

“Are you two serious?” A new voice questioned from the entrance of Yoongi’s room. “You both are thinking incredibly too far into this. I’ve been standing here listening to you two for about five minutes and you still haven’t figured out the obvious.” Seokjin was leaning against the doorway with a black robe tied loosely around his body, a wide expanse of his chest on display. There were a few scratches here and there but Yoongi paid them no mind. He moved to walk over to where Yoongi and Namjoon sat on the large, cloud like bed. Despite the fact that Yoongi’s bed was spacious enough, Seokjin still made his way over to his lover, situating himself on Namjoon’s lap. 

“Since it’s so obvious, how about you tell us what the solution to this is,” Yoongi snapped, to which Seokjin only scoffed in response. 

“You can always use force. We could threaten, Tae, but that would hurt our little Kookie.” Seokjin sounded so calm and pleasant. A tone of voice he always picked up when Jungkook was mentioned. “Or… We could do nothing. Jungkook is eighteen now, he could handle what we know.”

“Eighteen is a really ripe age, Jin,” Namjoon sighed. 

“Then what do you want to do? Hurt your brother by killing someone he loves?” Seokjin questioned. Namjoon was quick to shake his head. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Not because he was afraid of Kook or anything like that, he was just completely against the idea of hurting his own brother. Namjoon held Seokjin a bit tighter to his chest. He couldn’t imagine losing Seokjin over something as stupid as his father’s plethora of secrets, so he wouldn’t take Taehyung away from Jungkook unless the situation really called for it. 

Namjoon was a lot of things, but inconsiderate was not one of them.

“There’s not much else we can do other than just keep an eye on the two of them.” Yoongi suggested, getting fed up with the topic of conversation. Bon-Hwa’s secrets always made Yoongi feel things that he never wanted to feel again. “Seokjin should talk to Taehyung about what he knows. Me and Namjoon will make sure to keep tabs on their relationship, friendship, or whatever the hell the two of them are doing with each other.” 

Seokjin readily agreed but Namjoon took a few moments to think it over. 

After coming up with nothing, Namjoon gave single nod of his head. “Okay. Where is Taehyung now? I think we should speak to him as soon as possible.”

“He and Jungkook left early this morning,” Seokjin said, absentmindedly toying with Namjoon’s left ring finger. He curled his finger around the base of Joon’s finger before carressing it with the pad of his finger. He repeated the motion a few times. While Yoongi noticed, he didn’t think Seokjin or Namjoon were particularly aware of it. 

“For what?” Yoongi asked. 

“I didn’t ask. But they do have that assassination that they have to complete tonight. They’re probably gonna go set everything up with Jo Kwon at the strip club.”

“Aren’t they bringing Jimin along with them?” 

“Yeah.” Upon Jin confirming it, Namjoon frowned. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Seokjin reassured, turning to kiss Namjoon briefly. Yoongi grimaced and whimpered something under his breath about kicking the two out of his room if they did it again. “I have a meeting with Jo Kwon tonight anyway so I’ll keep an eye on Jimin. But you should trust the two of them.” 

Jungkook and Taehyung were trustworthy and good with their jobs, but that wasn’t the problem. What Namjoon and Yoongi were concerned about was how well the two would tend to Jimin. Yoongi didn’t need Jimin being scared, hurt, or taken. He needed Jimin’s confidence to be boosted and most importantly needed to be able to trust that he was going to be safe here in the 7 Point Syndicate if he did all of the right things. 

Loyalty began with trust. And before they could make use of Jimin’s full potential and ability, they had to get Jimin to trust them.

Seokjin noticed Yoongi deep in thought as the younger bit at the nonexistent nail of his thumb. “Hey, Gi. You should meet Jimin. He’s quite pleasant and could soften even the hardest of hearts. Even ones made of coal like yours,” Seokjin said with a teasing lilt to his tone. While Jin only mentioned Jimin for a quick jest, he hadn’t been lying about Jimin being amiable. It was almost in a childlike way and Jin loved that.

Seokjin had a thing for people that he could nurture. Over the last week, Jimin had been accompanying Hoseok or Seokjin to whatever meetings or other business matters Namjoon felt the boy should be exposed to. When Jin was with Jimin, the boy was like a breath of fresh air. Jimin didn’t know much about the outside world and Seokjin enjoyed being able to teach the younger the goods of the world. It was best to do that now because Jimin had just entered the most dubious part of society, and there was no way out now. 

Jin noticed a few pleasant things about Jimin. The boy loved to look at the glowing lights of Seoul at night, just like Yoongi. He also easily slipped into his thoughts, sometimes so deep that Seokjin had to punch the poor boy in his arm to get his attention. But what Seokjin realized quite early on- and planned to use to his full advantage- was the fact that Jimin absolutely loved being praised and acknowledged. 

Just a simple compliment about his hair or posture could have Jimin blushing and keening. Seokjin just couldn’t get enough of that. 

“He’ll meet him soon enough,” Namjoon said. “Yoongi is just too intense for Jimin right now. You know how much of an asshole you can be, Yoongi.”

“I can be polite when I want to,” Yoongi retorted. Namjoon only grunted.

As he watched Yoongi move to finally get out of bed, because there was no way Yoongi was going to be able to go back to sleep, Namjoon caught a glimpse of those toy soldiers thrown carelessly onto the bedside table. 

Namjoon had completely forgot about his promise to Yoongi that the both of them were going to go and burn the hunks of plastic to into nothing. A pang of guilt penetrated his chest. What type of brother was he to allow these horrible pieces of Yoongi’s past just lay there next to Yoongi’s bed, the younger’s favorite place to be. 

Whispering a soft command to Seokjin telling him move from his lap, Namjoon called out his brother’s name just as he was about to close the bathroom door. 

“What?” 

“Hurry up, okay. We still are supposed to burn those pieces of shit, right?” Namjoon quipped, tilting his head in the direction of the bedside table. The right corner of Yoongi’s lips tilted upward into a knowing smirk. 

“Hell yeah. Let me change.” That was all he said before shutting the bathroom door with one last smirk in his brother’s direction. Seokjin began giggling under his breath before grabbing for Namjoon’s hand to intertwine their fingers. 

“What’s funny?” 

“I love you so much, Joonie.” Seokjin pulled him in for a slow, passionate kiss. Oh, Namjoon loved Jin’s softness. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too, Jin,” Namjoon whispered back, his lips never fully leaving Seokjin’s. 

“I want you to burn those toys to the ground. We  _ will _ get vengeance on that cop for hurting Yoongi. It’s so great that you are always thinking about your family. You will make an amazing mafia boss, baby.”

So that’s what this was about. 

Seokjin deepen the kiss by snaking his arms around Namjoon’s neck and pulling him closer. Not really thinking, Namjoon pulled at the silk robe until the knot that was keeping the robe closed was let loose, revealing Seokjin’s completely naked body underneath. Jin elicited a light moan against his lips as he felt Namjoon’s slightly cold hands run across his naked hips. When Jin pushed his groin against him, Namjoon had to remind himself that he was in his brother’s room and not their own. 

“Thank you, love.” Namjoon kissed him once then twice before pulling away. He looked down at the beautiful contrast of silky black to Seokjin’s slightly tanned skin. Namjoon groaned before reluctantly tying the robe once again.

 

Just an hour later, Yoongi had the honor of drowning those pieces of plastic in lighter fluid and lighting it aflame. Once again, he was reminded by how  _ beautiful  _ the blazing flames of a raging fire were. 

It was almost orgasmic. Almost bringing him to tears as he and Namjoon laughed in relief as the twin toy soldiers burned.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Why the hell hasn’t he called us yet, Jongin?” Baekhyun practically threw himself into the backseat of the car and slammed the door shut behind him, looking to Jongin for an answer as if he had one.

Jongin exhaled a deep sigh before closing the laptop that was sitting on his lap halfway to focus completely on Baekhyun. He had been acting this way for about four days and everytime Jongin would question his reasons for being so upset and agitated, Baekhyun would only frown and completely change the topic of interest. Jongin wasn’t one to pry so he always just left it alone, but now it seemed like Baekhyun was close to bursting at the seams. 

“Calm down, Baekhyun.”

“No! I won’t! This is Jimin we’re talking about. Not some useless son of a bitch that I could care less if they lived or died!” Baekhyun sudden anger didn’t bother Jongin much but it seemed to scare Jiwoo a bit. Jongin quickly muttered his apologies on Baekhyun’s behalf as Jiwoo pulled off down the road again. They’d just picked up Baekhyun from one of the Lotus Syndicate’s several businesses. There was a meeting regarding some new tributes and now Baekhyun and Jongin were on their way to meet them at one of the storage units on the outskirts of Seoul.

“I know you’re worried. I am too, but we agreed to trust Jimin and that’s what we have to do. We are men of our word. Correct?”

Baekhyun only huffed before turning his head to look out of the car window at something else that wasn’t his brother. It would be a complete lie to say that Jongin wasn’t freaking out about the fact that it’d been over a week since the youngest brother was dropped off in front of the Clover Cafe and they’d heard absolutely nothing. Jimin could be dead by now for all he knew. But Jongin refused to think that way because, like he’d said before, he trusted Jimin to bring home success from this mission. 

“How was the meeting?” Jongin asked, looking at Baekhyun whose head was still turned away. Even when he began talking, Baekhyun refused to remove his gaze from his reflection in the window. 

“It was fine,” Baekhyun said. “Lots of new recruits, most of them were young. A few of them former sex slaves from the 7 Point Syndicate’s ranks that we somehow got a hold of. The others were working under some of our lower men and women but were requested as recruits with a higher status because of skill.” 

This was why Jongin liked working with Baekhyun, well, on most occasions when the younger wasn’t drowning in his own agony. When taking reports from Baekhyun, the conversation was never drawn out to unnecessary lengths for no apparent reason other than wanting to sound smart, like most of the Lotus’ men did when reporting to Jongin. Everything was simple and straight to the point, leaving more time for thinking and organizing any next steps if any were necessary. 

“All in all, everything went smoothly.” Baekhyun ended with a roll of his eyes that Jongin wasn’t going to ignore. But when he’d gotten ready to speak up- completely fed up with Baekhyun’s childishness and refusal to push feelings aside for the job- there was a sudden ringing from his suit pocket. 

Throwing an intense glare at the back of Baekhyun's head, Jongin slipped the phone from inside of the breast pocket of the suit and noticed the number almost immediately. For some reason, he froze, just simply staring as the incessant beeping of his phone continued. Jiwoo looked at Jongin threw the rearview mirror and Baekhyun turned his head so suddenly that it almost looked like it hurt. He looked Jongin up and down. 

“Who is it?” Baekhyun questioned, shifting around in the back seat uncomfortably. 

“Jimin…” Jongin cleared his throat. “It’s the number from that phone I left in the file cabinet.”

“Then answer it,” Baekhyun practically yelled. Jongin hated being yelled at but he still swiped the button across the screen and quickly pressed the warmed screen against his ear without hesitation.

“Hello? Jimin?” 

“It’s me.”

Yes. That was his voice. Jongin hadn’t known how much he missed Jimin’s voice until now. When a relieved sigh left Jongin’s lips, Baekhyun finally stopped holding his breath.  _ Jimin was okay.  _

Off instinct it seemed, Baekhyun reached for the phone but Jongin jerked away, pushing his hand away. Instead, Jongin quickly connected his phone to the bluetooth of the car. Jiwoo didn’t even have to be notified of this, she easily connected it with a single tap of a button and turned up the volume so now Jimin’s soft voice was filling the car. 

Jiwoo even grinned at the sound of his voice. 

“Is everything okay over there?” Jimin asked. Jongin noted that his voice was a bit rough but didn’t pay much mind to it. He was probably emotionally exhausted, but Jongin was sure that it was something that he could deal with. 

“We should be asking you that, Jiminie,” Baekhyun said, his tone so much lighter than just a few minutes before. “But things are perfectly fine over here. Some new tributes. We’re on our way to meet them right now, in fact.”

“Enough small talk, Jimin,” Jongin interjected. “How are things going with you and the mission?”

“It’s going smoothly. I’m in. The good news, I suppose, would be that I don’t have to work my way up the ranks to get close to the main men.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“I work very closely with Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok now. I alternate between the two of them during the day. They all treat me like something fragile, like a child. It seems like Jeon Jungkook, the youngest, and his friend, Taehyung, have taken a liking to me though. They come over to the house everyday around midnight to check on me, at least that’s what they say they are doing. The two of them are a bit… peculiar.”

“In what way?” Baekhyun questioned instantly. He was constantly shifting around- biting his nails, tapping his foot- in anxiousness.

“They say they want me to trust them. To be comfortable with them. I feel like they… want me in a way.” Jimin’s voice progressively got softer and almost ended in a whisper. 

“Well just keep playing on that power, Jimin.” The sharp intake of breath from Jimin when Jongin said that was heard throughout the car. Almost deafeningly.

“How am I supposed to do that. These are experienced men. I’m barely an adult and I’m-”

“Stop.” 

Jimin stopped immediately. 

“I don’t want to hear about what you can’t do anymore. You can do this and you  _ will  _ do this. You say they treat you like some child, so this is the perfect time to play on that. Let them underestimate you and believe that they are molding you into something that is specifically their’s.”

“You’re just a pawn in a room full of rooks, knights, queens, and kings,” Baekhyun said. “They won’t expect a thing, Jiminie. You’ll infiltrate their side and we’ll have victory. Doesn’t that sound most appealing.  _ Victory.”  _

Jimin sighed over the line. “Yes. It does. I want to bring success.”

“And you will,” Jongin reassured. “This is a game that you’re pretending you don’t know how to play. That’s why you’re our artifice.”

The line was silent except for Jimin’s deep breathing. As the seconds passed, the breathing became more like hyperventilating. “I-I miss you.” Jongin closed his eyes as he listened to Jimin’s soft hiccups as he cried. It hurt his heart.

“Stop it, Jimin,” Baekhyun murmured. “We miss you too, but you can’t cry now.” This was getting to Baekhyun. Nothing got to Baekhyun. But Jimin’s broken voice, the image of his red, tear stricken face, hurt him. 

“I know…” 

Jongin wished he could talk to Jimin more, but Jiwoo had just pulled up in front of one of the warehouses- specifically the one dealing with engineering of explosives and weapons. He had a schedule to follow and unfortunately he couldn’t disrupt it for Jimin. 

“We have to go now, Jiminie. When you have the chance, update us on what’s going on.”

“I promise, I will,” Jimin sniffed. 

“Promise, we’ll answer,” Baekhyun and Jongin said at the same time, voices both laced with wavering strength. Then there was a loud beep and the line went dead. The two brothers shared a knowing glance before exiting the car. They thanked Jiwoo, promising yet another raise for her efforts, and walked the path to the entrance of the warehouse. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were standing next to the entrance, greeting Baekhyun and Jongin with a slight bow of the head. 

“Follow us,” Jongin commanded. Kyungsoo pulled the key from his pocket and opening the large, slightly rusting door. Jongin wasn’t even aware how Minseok could work here all day.

“Any updates on the tributes, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun said, slowing his walk a bit so he could walk directly next to the taller. Having Chanyeol walk behind him was almost like telling him that Baekhyun didn’t think of him as an equal. But, in reality, he did. He wouldn’t be so efficient at his job if it weren’t for all of Chanyeol’s help.

“Kyungsoo and I have brought the tributes here and lined them up in the boardroom on the top floor. Minseok is up there keeping an eye on them as we came to greet you,” Chanyeol supplied, looking down at Baekhyun’s face. It wasn’t hard and rigid as it had been for the last week. His shoulders had finally relaxed and his eyebrows weren’t pinched. The same thing went for Jongin. 

While no one else would notice the change in Baekhyun’s and Jongin’s demeanor, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol worked with the two everyday. Just a simple change in appearance would be so clear to them. It was their job. 

So the obvious tranquility in their attitudes were all the confirmation Chanyeol and Kyungsoo needed to know that Jimin was okay. 

“It seems Minseok has taken a liking to one of the tributes already, Jongin,” Kyungsoo informed as they turned the corner to ascend the stairs. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were close behind. “He’s a handsome one, so I see why Minseok was so smitten.”

“Really?” Jongin raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Minseok to be attracted to someone, especially at first glance. Minseok wasn’t one that liked connections or relationships because he was quite the pessimistic person. He deemed connections, let alone relationships, to be a direct pathway to emotional pain. To Minseok, all relationships ended in pain so usually, he would just focus all of his attention on hacking and configuring explosives for the Lotus Syndicate.

Jongin couldn’t wait to meet this tribute.

“I think he’s more attracted to his abilities in combat than anything else,” Chanyeol spoke up. “We had the recruits show off some of their skills in firearms and hand to hand combat, and, to put it simply, the man kicked ass.” Kyungsoo let out a grunt of agreement. 

Making it to the fourth and last floor, the four of them made their way to the largest boardroom that was farthest down the hall. Kyungsoo sped up his pace to push open the door and allow the other three men to enter before him. Indeed, about ten men and women were lined up against the wall, the black, oval table pushed towards the opposite wall. All eyes turned towards Jongin and Baekhyun when the door opened. Minseok looked with a slight smirk on his lips. 

“There’s the bosses. Baekhyun and Jongin,” Minseok introduced. All of the recruits bowed deeply, their backs making the perfect right angle. With just one look over all of the tributes, Jongin and Baekhyun knew exactly who Minseok had been enamoured by. 

The four women were immediately excluded from any possibilities because Minseok had expressed on multiple occasions how much he enjoyed being under a man’s firm body. Four of the men weren’t really appealing in appearance; clearly they’d stopped being so concerned about appearance a long time ago judging by how just…  _ unappealing _ they were.

Two of the men would have caught Minseok’s eye because of their striking appearance and attitude. And Jongin knew which of the two it was. Mostly because Minseok hated when people towered over him and one of the men was quite tall. Almost Chanyeol’s height. Now it was narrowed down to just one man. 

Jongin slowly walked along the line of tributes. Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol stood back, allowing Jongin to observe each person one by one. He did this until he got to the end of the line, where the handsome man was standing. He was a few inches shorter than Jongin, about the same height as Minseok. “What’s your name?”

The man carried his head high and stood with obvious confidence. Jongin liked that. 

“My name is Kim Jongdae.”

  
  
  
  
  


When the call ended, Jimin kept the phone pressed to his ear for a few seconds longer. He was attempting to get ahold of himself and stop the tears that were steadily breaking past the confines that he’d built to stop them from falling that entire week. But what was he supposed to do? Hearing his brothers’ voice was completely heartbreaking. 

He’d gotten the overwhelming urge to pitch the stupid blocky device at the wall, but caught himself before he could. 

With a deep, deep sigh, Jimin pried himself off of the floor and deposited the small phone back into the file cabinet towards the very back where it’d been before. With blurry eyes, he locked the cabinet again and sluggishly hauled himself out of the room. He closed the office door behind him and moved towards the kitchen to put the key back under the coffee machine. 

Every sound Jimin made- whether it be his footsteps on the hardwood flooring or the sound of the coffee machine being moved- was emphasized by what seemed like a thousand. It was so quiet that even the silence was deafening.

Jimin took a quick look at the clock on the microwave. It was 7:50. Jungkook had told Jimin the night before that he’d be here with Taehyung at 8 sharp to get ready for the mission tonight.  _ A simple poisoning and gathering information for blackmail.  _

It sounded easy enough, but even though he was here for just a week, Jimin knew not to underestimate the difficulty of work in the mafia. Anything out of place could make a mission go completely amiss, resulting in only God knows what. It happened a few times with Seokjin. Jimin learned a few things about Jin this week. Don’t anger him was one. The second was not to mention the scar on his flawless face. And the third was that Jin loved to nurture and touch. Jimin definitely saw where Jungkook had gotten that trait from.

He hadn’t known he was sitting there for so long until there was some firm knocks on the door. Jimin looked down at himself. A simple plaid pajama set with black socks. He’d immediately changed into it when Hoseok dropped him off here a few hours earlier. His anti pollution mask was on the countertop.

When he opened the door, Jungkook and Taehyung had already made a habit of quickly slipping into the house as to not pollute too much of the purified air of the home. The two of them had black bags secured on their shoulders, Taehyung even carrying one in his hand. 

“Hello, Jimin,” Taehyung said as he made his way into Jimin’s room without asking. Jimin guessed it was because Taehyung already felt acquainted enough with him. But it could easily be because Taehyung didn’t really care about permission. 

“Come, come, Jiminie,” Jungkook beckoned Jimin to follow Taehyung into his room. “We have a long night ahead of us and we have minimal amounts of time to prepare. So hurry, hurry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm sorry this took so long to write. I just started another fic because I just couldn't wait to write it so now I'm writing two fics at once. It harder than I thought it would be, lol! Tell me what you think about this chapter!
> 
> What secrets are Yoongi and Namjoon referring to?  
> Why the hell is Jongdae a tribute for the Lotus Syndicate? (If you don't remember, Jongdae works for the 7 Point Syndicate and was the one who told Namjoon about the changes in profit that one time.)
> 
> The next chapter will be up soon! Remember that you are perfect and loved!
> 
> Love,  
> Your Mochi


	10. First Mission

Jimin couldn’t stop squirming around in the back seat of Jungkook’s lamborghini. Gosh, Jimin loved beautiful, high classed cars and was more than just freaking astonished when he’d left his house and was met with the breathtaking four door lamborghini sitting outside. 

“Lamborghini Estoque,” Jungkook said, his head tilted up in pride. “Daddy just bought it for me after I made some improvements. Originally I wanted an Aventador, but I saw this and I just had to have it. Now it’s all mine.” Jimin nodded. Taehyung entered the driver’s seat but not before pulling the back seat door open for Jimin. Needless to say, Jimin was surprised by the polite gesture but didn’t open his mouth to say anything. 

When Jungkook finally situated himself in the passenger seat- he’d spent some time marveling at his newest prized possession- Taehyung started the car almost immediately. The awe of being able to sit in the backseat of one of these cars was short lived as he began to shift and squirm uncomfortably. The skin tight, black leather pants and this collar was only helping Jimin become even more uncomfortable. 

Jimin knew that the mission was at one of the 7 Point Syndicate’s strip clubs, but didn’t know that he would be posing as one of the strippers there. His eyes had widened considerably when Taehyung explained everything to him. So now, he was sitting here in the back seat of Jungkook’s new car, burning up from anxiousness from thinking so hard about this mission and embarrassment from being in such tight clothes. The only piece of clothing that allowed him to breathe was the shirt that was practically falling off of his shoulder from how big it was. 

When Jungkook playfully asked if he liked this mission’s clothing choice, Jimin thought about actually saying no. But when Taehyung uttered how incredibly sexy he looked, Jimin almost purred.  _ Purred.  _ Like some fucking cat. But he just couldn’t deny how much he loved praise. So Jimin kept the outfit on, continuously eating up the suggestive glances Taehyung was throwing his way. If it was just to stroke his obvious love for praise or if it was because Taehyung actually thought he looked nice, Jimin seriously didn’t care.

“Jimin.” Jungkook saying his name caught him completely off guard. 

“Yes?”

“You’re moving a lot back there. What is the problem?” Jungkook questioned turning to look at Jimin who’d stopped moving all together. 

“N-Nervous, is all. I’ve never d-done this,” Jimin tried.

“I know you haven’t,” Jungkook scoffed. “You haven’t even been out of the fucking house in years. I’m sure you don’t even know what a strip club even is. That’s why I’ll have Taehyung explain everything to you.” Jungkook’s gaze averted to Taehyung who’s gaze was focused solely on driving. At the mentioning of his name, he groaned.

“Why the hell can’t you just explain it, Kook?” Taehyung said, keeping his eyes on the road. Despite knowing how close they were, Jimin still found it quite peculiar that Taehyung talked to Jungkook that way sometimes. On multiple occasions, Jimin has witnessed Taehyung deny Jungkook of what he wanted or even just completely ignoring an order Jungkook gave him. Unlike Seokjin who wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone straight in the jaw for not following orders as soon as they were given- Jimin had witnessed this a couple times this past week- Jungkook would only roll his eyes. 

“Because I fucking said you’re gonna do it,” Jungkook retorted. “Now get to explaining, TaeTae.” Taehyung turned to look at Jungkook briefly. Was he challenging him? Jungkook returned the same expression. 

“Alright, Jimin.” Taehyung had obviously lost that battle. “We’re posing as strippers tonight. I am going to take care of the poisoning so you don’t have to worry about that. You and Jungkook are to stroll around the strip club, keeping an eye on men and gathering any information possible from any conversations.”

“Why would they talk about business at a strip club that is owned by the 7 Point Syndicate in the first place?” Jimin found himself wondering aloud. 

“We own fifty one percent this strip club, meaning we own, and always will own, the majority of it, but the other owner still owns a good bit that allows them to still have  _ some  _ control. So, these men don’t know that the 7 Point has any ownership over this club because we don’t necessarily have to disclose that info because of fifty one percent. It’s all a game, Jiminie. However, to stay even more secluded, these men like to go upstairs to where the male strip club is. Probably thought that is a better place to hide because no one would expect them there.” Jungkook scoffed at the end almost as if the attempt to hide was stupid all together. 

“You remember the men that you are supposed to keep an eye on, correct?” Taehyung asked, glancing up at the rearview mirror for just a split second to look back at Jimin. 

“Yes.” 

Both Jungkook and Taehyung nodded in approval. 

In just a few more minutes of silence, Taehyung made a sudden turn into an alleyway between some buildings that he hadn’t even noticed. No one would ever notice them really, not unless they were specifically looking for the building. It was hidden perfectly in plain sight. Similar to the 7 Point and the Lotus. You knew it was there, yet, at the same time, you didn’t. 

The bright headlights were turned off as soon as the car came to a complete stop. Jimin continued to stare outside of the car window, wondering exactly where they were. Even though he probably should be used to the unknown by now, Jimin still felt that same amount of fear rise in his chest as he strained his neck and eyes to pointlessly look around at nothing but the graffitied walls of the buildings the car was between. 

“The car shouldn’t be seen from over here and we have multiple ways to get here if one route somehow becomes blocked,” Taehyung supplied. Their conversation had suddenly caught Jimin’s attention. Despite not being able to see much of anything but some vague shadows as the two moved around in the front seats, Jimin could see that the two were pulling something over the lower half of their faces. Masks?

 

Seemingly hearing Jimin’s thoughts, Jungkook turned around with the mask on to look back at Jimin who was still stiffly sitting in the backseat. Almost submissively and obediently.

“We ordered all of the strippers tonight to wear masks so you don’t draw too much attention to yourself with that mask of yours,” Jungkook said. A smile spread across his face as he reached for Jimin’s thigh. “Calm down, Jimin. Even with half of your face covered, I can tell you’re frowning from being so nervous. You’re with us and you’re safe. Plus, this mission is perfectly simple and no one will get killed, okay.” 

Jimin almost scoffed when those words left Jungkook’s lips. He wondered if that was sarcasm because even with only a week’s experience of being with the 7 Point Syndicate, Jimin was well aware of what happened when a mission didn’t go  _ exactly  _ as planned. He recalls quite precisely a ‘simple’ mission with Hoseok that didn’t go as perfectly as he wanted. Hoseok had shortly told Jimin to stay in the car as Hoseok rushed into the building with his fists clenched in anger at everyone’s ‘stupidity.’ After what felt like an eternity of sitting in the car alone, Hoseok had came back with blood staining his bruised hands and fresh, wet blood soaking through his pristine white dress shirt. Jimin was sure that some of the blood was on his tie too but his tie was already a dark red, the exact color of blood, so it almost didn’t really matter. 

“I trust you,” Jimin breathed out without a second thought. 

“Good. Because it’s time to go,” Taehyung said. With one last smile at Jimin, Jungkook turned to push open the car door so Jimin follows after almost like he had been ordered to. 

Jungkook leads the way down the alleyway as they all follow the path in silence. It felt like they had been walking for about a block total when they had came upon a rusty door. Jimin could hear the blasting EDM music fainting from out here. His senses seemed to spike and the adrenaline coursed even quicker. This was his first mission, and he was so scared. 

“You got the poison, Tae?”

“Yup.”Taehyung slipped a small valve from the breast pocket of his shirt and showed it to Jungkook who nodded, before he hiding it again. “I’m gonna go straight to that son of a bitch. You and Jimin stay alert for any blackmail.”

“I know that, Taehyung. Don’t forget your place,” Jungkook warned. Taehyung only hunched his shoulders. He pulled open the heavy door, the low bass of the music getting a bit louder and the mixture of colored lights spilling out. Taehyung quickly slipped inside of the building without as much as a glance their way, leaving Jimin and Jungkook outside alone. 

Jungkook turned to Jimin and ran his fingers through Jimin’s hair a few times. Even though Jungkook was younger, he was still taller than Jimin. He liked that power. “Do you know all of the men?”

“Yes, I do,” Jimin reiterated for the second time.

“What’s your job tonight?”

“Listen around for any information to use as blackmail. Don’t draw too much attention to myself.”

“Exactly. So make sure you play the role of a stripper.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he remembered something. He had no idea how to do that. He only had a vague idea of what a stripper did, and he had already told himself that he would stop relying on the things he’s learned from television so Jimin was completely in the dark here. 

“Just follow the lead of everyone else, Jiminie.” Jimin keened at the nickname. Oh, how much he missed his brothers calling him that. “Just do your best to fit in. Sway your pretty little figure. If anyone wants to touch tell them you belong to Seokjin and they’ll back off in just a second.” 

‘Belong.’ There was that possessive wording again as if he was an object. Even though he didn’t like the sound of it, he nodded his head in understanding. Jungkook fumbled with his mask a bit more before grabbing at Jimin’s arm and pulling him into the building. The blaring music got even louder and the flashing lights of blue and white blinded Jimin momentarily. 

“The first floor is where the women dance. We are going to go upstairs where all the sexy men dance,” Jungkook informed, his grasp on Jimin’s arm only tightening as they maneuvered around men and women alike to get to the staircase on the other side of the room. The strippers were dressed in as little clothes as possible that it made Jimin blush profusely under his anti pollution mask. Jungkook had indeed lived up to his promise because all of the strippers were wearing masks as they walked around the oddly sweet smelling space of the strip club. 

Only when they were ascending the staircase that Jungkook let go of Jimin’s arm. And, of course, Jimin began blushing even more when they made it to the staircase and all of the half naked women were replaced with equally as naked men. He couldn’t even find it within himself to look up from the carpeted flooring.

“Jimin, don’t be shy,” Jungkook quipped. “They all play nice. Even the women downstairs are fun to play with. If you do well with this mission.” Jungkook leaned in close to Jimin’s ear and even though his face was covered with a mask, Jimin could clearly hear what he whispered as the song being played came to an end and another fast paced pop song followed. “I’ll let you play with whoever you want in here. Male or female. Tall or short. Soft or strong. It’s gonna be all your pick but only if you do well.” 

“Yes, Jungkook. I will do my best. I promise,” Jimin responded. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow before turning and sauntering deeper into the groups of well dressed men and women that were all but gawking at the employees around them. Leaving Jimin all alone with his thoughts. And as much as Jimin would love to stand here and waddle in his thoughts, he knew that he had a job to do. Not for Jungkook and Taehyung, but for Baekhyun and Jongin. His actual brothers. 

He reminded himself of what his mission was. Blend in with the crowd and collect blackmail from some men. Jimin knew who these men were. Kim Hyun Woo. Jung Kiha. Kim Chanwon. 

Three of his Bon-Hwa’s closest men that are suspected to involved in some type of foul play, ultimately making Namjoon’s job a lot harder. Jimin couldn’t understand how they didn’t expect this from some of the men. Namjoon was young and also shamelessly involved with a man. While Namjoon was wise, intelligent, and definitely intimidating, most men didn’t know that. All they knew was that he was young and that alone was enough for them to underestimate Namjoon. That wasn’t in their best interest. Jimin felt a bit bad for these men and what was coming to them. But there was no saving them now. They were the ones to blame for this. To say these men had been involved in the the mafia business for so long, Jimin assume they would know one of the most important rules here. Something he’d only learned in just a month. 

Never underestimate what one can do in this business just by a few facts or looks. 

They all were living proof of that. These men were so, so stupid in Jimin’s opinion.

There was a sudden weight against the small of his back that startled Jimin from his thoughts causing him to whip his head around. It was one of the strippers. He was cute and big eyed. 

“Do you need anything?” Jimin questioned, deciding that now was the time he would need to start his mission. 

“Are you Jimin?”

Jimin looked at the wide eyed, petite man and didn’t say anything for a split second. Even with that mask on, Jimin could tell this man was quite pretty. 

He remembered what Jongin said when he’d asked Jimin to repeat everything back to him that day. He had to be confident in his answers, and the more time he spent thinking only would lessen his credibility and power. “Yes, I am. Now, is there anything that you need?” Jimin felt oddly powerful by the conviction in his voice. Even if it was fake, it was strong.

“No. I was sent by Taehyung actually. He wants you to walk around with the drinks. Gives you a good cover,” the deer eyed boy said. He raised his hand to point at the bar across the floor of the club. Grab the trays from the refrigerator behind the bar. There’s only three so make sure you walk around with them until you find the men you’re supposed to. Don’t blow this, Jimin.”

“What’s your name? And how do you know all of this?” Jimin found himself questioning before the boy could saunter away. 

“I’m Luhan. I work with Seokjin and Jo Kwon sometimes. I’ve heard a lot about you. I can see why they all have taken a liking to you.” Luhan let his gaze trail down Jimin’s frame before traveling back up to meet the younger’s eyes. It made a shiver run straight down Jimin’s spine. He was both intimidated and oddly pleased. 

The idea that they’ve taken a liking to him scared Jimin. He wondered what they wanted to do with him. But yet, that same idea had Jimin keening. The thought of being  _ praised, loved,  _ and  _ appreciated  _ by them all was so uplifting. 

“I hope to see you around, Luhan,” Jimin said absentmindedly. Luhan smirked before walking off. Taking a quick moment to pull his thoughts back to his mission, Jimin moved along the walls of the club to get to the bar. To him, that was the best way to avoid any unwanted attention, avoiding the crowd in general. He found the fridge behind the bar with some difficulty because it undoubtedly blended in with the black wall behind it. The flashing lights and booming music weren’t really helping him stay oriented either. 

He carefully pulled out a tray of shot glasses filled with some red looking substance. Fortunately there was a sticky note on it because Jimin didn’t want to go around with a tray of glasses giving out only god knows what. 

“Jello shots,” he muttered to himself. Kicking the door of the fridge closed, Jimin did a quick scan of the room. It was pretty packed because it was a Friday night, and while that normally would’ve caused JImin some anxiety, he reassured himself that it was a good thing. 

Honestly, Jimin had no clear, elaborate plan for tonight. All he knew was that he had to walk around with these drinks until he found the three men he’d been looking for. He still had no idea how he would even eavesdrop without being noticed. But that would have to wait until that step actually came. The first step was finding them. So Jimin, with some hesitancy, began roaming around the club. He had his strictly focused on the patterned carpet that Jimin couldn’t really tell the color of because of the lights that were currently giving him a headache. 

As he wandered, some people waved him over and asked for some shots and even flirted a bit with him. Jimin would only giggle and turn an obvious shade of red that shown through the lack of decent lighting. This innocent act- well not so much of an act- was actually working for Jimin as people found this humbleness and innocence cute and even cuter when Jimin would attempt to be just as flirtatious back. 

Jimin remembered one man named Yixing. He had insisted that Jimin ‘play’ with him to which he responded with a shy, “sorry, but I belong to Seokjin.” It felt weird on his tongue. 

“Is that so?”

Jimin had shook his head, struggling to maintain the intense eye contact that Jimin had never been on the receiving end of. 

“Well if that ever changes, you can always ask JoKwon where to find me.” The hand that Jimin hadn’t even known was on his waist, the hot breath on his ear, and the tall dominant presence behind him had disappeared. 

Jimin honestly had no idea what to think of that.

 

When Jimin was walking around with the third and last tray of jello shots, he noticed something that he hadn’t before: a very discreet space that was behind the wall of one of the bar areas. Jimin only noticed it because of a loud cackle of laughter from back there. Taking the last of the jello shots with him, Jimin quickly thought of a plan and carried out with it, only hoping that he was good enough an actor to pull this off. 

Jimin entered the space with just a bit of sway to his hips. About eight men were back there around a long table playing a card game, instantly confusing Jimin as he considered the possibility that these weren’t the men he was looking for. That was until he’d seen Chanwon’s slender, narrow face that was completely red from doubling over in laughter at something one of them had said. Jimin’s breath caught his throat. This was his chance to prove himself.

“I was wondering when those were gonna come around. It’s my favorite part of Friday nights,” Kiha exclaimed. When Jimin realized that he was referring to the jello shots, Jimin rushed over. 

“I’m new here so I wasn’t aware of this area,” Jimin explained as he sauntered towards the table to set the entire tray down. “You guys can have the entire tray if you would like.” 

“How sweet of you, cupcake,” Kiha uttered from the chair he was sitting in next to where Jimin twas standing. He suddenly snaked his hand towards the inside of Jimin’s thigh causing him to go stiff. He’s  _ never  _ been touched anywhere near there before. Even though Jimin was sure Kiha noticed how tense Jimin’s muscles became when he touched him, Kiha never retracted his hand. Just continued to pet the inside of Jimin’s thigh.

“You say you’re new here, right?” Hyunwoo asked in an obvious slur. He seemed so drunk. Jimin was surprised the man was still awake. A man next Hyunwoo that Jimin definitely didn’t recognize from any files, looked at Hyunwoo with a raised brow. 

“Yes, I am,” Jimin responded. 

“Did you run into some other employees that supposedly were  _ new  _ today. J-Jungkook and T-T-Taehyung? Those f-fuckers.” The chatter of the room came to a halt. 

“Hey, why don’t you go get us some tequila shots?” Kiha said, his hand finally leaving Jimin’s inner thigh. 

“U-um, sure. Of course.” Despite the fact that he wanted to run out of that room, Jimin took his time so he didn’t show just how shaken he was. They  _ knew  _ about tonight. They  _ knew  _ that Jungkook and Taehyung were here tonight. There was no fucking doubt that they had probably planned something with that knowledge. 

“Fuck,” Jimin spat. His first instinct was to go and look for Jungkook and Taehyung immediately, but then something dawned on him. He needed information. More information and judging by the way that everything halted in there, Jimin was sure that there was something more to this.  _ Much  _ more. 

So instead of leaving, Jimin kneeled behind the wall that seperated the space from the rest of the club and strained his hearing to be able to hear the conversation over the music. 

“What the fuck, Hyunwoo? You mention that in front of some random stripper?” A deep voice growled.

“It doesn’t really matter, Jaebong. Just like you said, he’s a stripper. What is he gonna do or say?” Kiha said. He still sounded a bit unsure though. 

“Shut up, Yejin. You better hope they’ve gotten the two brats by now. Hopefully killed em.”

“Maybe so. Jaewook said he hasn’t seen them in the last hour or so,” another voice said. Jimin was up and off of the ground in just two swift movements. His thoughts were racing with things that he _ needed _ to do. Find Jungkook and Taehyung. Write these fucking names down  _ somewhere  _ before he forgets them. Find the easiest way to escape since people that weren’t even associated with the 7 Point were here. 

Jimin decided that, first, he needed to write these names down. Trying to avoid the thought of Jungkook and Taehyung being dead because of  _ him,  _ he searched behind the bar from something to write with. Anything. 

He had almost given up hope until he saw the whiteboard on the wall displaying the message that tonight was Friday so “free jello shots all night!!” Snatching the marker from the metal holder at the bottom of the white board, Jimin wrenched his sleeve up his arm. Seeing that he had no time to look for paper or napkins, Jimin opted to write everything on his arm. 

**Yijen Kiha Hyunwoo JaeBong Jaewook Chanwon**

He racked his brain a few more times before pocketing the marker in his tight leather pants pocket the best he could and maneuvering from behind the bar. Jimin blinked several times and attempted to gulp down his thoughts. His mind was swarming with the worst thoughts as his eyes watered. The mission didn’t go as planned so it was on the center of Jimin’s mind that blood was going to be shed tonight. 

But despite this overwhelming, uneasy feeling, Jimin kept moving. Right now, he had to find Taehyung and Jungkook. He didn’t know where he was going, but he just continued to walk around the club, weaving through the crowds of people as he looked around for a familiar face. 

Jimin’s feet were taking him up to the third floor of the club before his mind even registered the fact that he was doing it. He exhaled a deep breath that he hadn’t known he was holding as the booming music became more distant. There was no music being played on this floor. No bars, no crowds, no colorful, flashing lights. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Judging by the several doors that lined the walls of this floor, Jimin was sure that this was where the private things happened like private dances and stripteases. He was sure that sometimes people even went further than that.

Jimin shook his head. He couldn’t just go to each door, interrupting whatever the hell was going on in there, looking for two men that weren’t even actual employees. Still racking his mind for an idea, Jimin began roaming the space. Roaming and roaming until he heard a name. 

“-Yoongi.” 

Jimin stopped, drawing in a sharp breath. Backtracking to the door that he’d just passed that was opened just a bit, Jimin stood outside of it. Hopefully no one came up here or left a room to see him eavesdropping on sounds of others’ having sex. 

“How the hell did he even get the files? I was sure that we covered all of the evidence profusely under some of the most protected security,” a deep, scratchy voice said. “I don’t know what happened, Jae Wook.” That definitely wasn’t Taehyung or Jungkook. But Jae Wook was definitely in there, so Jimin decided to stay a little longer.

“Because he’s Min fucking Yoongi. But I got something for him. Just you wait until tonight ends and he finds out what the hell happened to his fucking brother. He thinks that this mafia bullshit gives him that power he was lacking, he better think again.”

To say that Jimin has never heard of this Jaewook guy, he seemed to have a lot of power, knowledge, and connections. The 7 Point Syndicate has more threats than he’d originally thought. It’s people inside and outside that are trying to sabotage them.  _ That’s  _ why they needed Jimin. 

But what caught his attention even more was what he said about Yoongi’s brother. Jungkook. Had he already been ambushed? Had he already been taken away? Dead? Where was Taehyung? Did he even complete the poisoning? 

Jimin didn’t even resist the urge to run this time. He sprinted back the way he came and down the staircase until he reached the first floor where the women danced. There, he bumped harshly into someone, almost knocking the both of them over if Jimin had been running any faster.

“What the fuck?” A familiar voice scolded. Jin. Jimin gasped as he looked up at Seokjin who was scowling angrily at him until he realized who he was exactly. “Why are you running? Is someone chasing you?”

“N-n-n-no, but I-I just-” Jimin’s mind couldn’t even form the right words to explain anything. He hadn’t known he was so shaken by the thought of Jungkook and Taehyung being possibly dead. 

“Jimin. I need you to calm down and talk to me,” Seokjin muttered close to his ear. He softly grabbed for Jimin’s hand and pulled him to the space under the staircase. Jin’s thumb caressed at the back of Jimin’s hand. 

“They know!” Jimin forced. He wanted to just rip this stupid mask off of his face but he knew that that wasn’t a choice at the moment. “They know about this mission before we even got here. They were expecting Taehyung and Jungkook to be here and they planned accordingly.” Jimin wrenched his sleeve up to his elbow and showed Seokjin the names that Jimin messily scribbled onto the skin of his forearm.

Seokjin took hold of his arm and it only took a second of looking for him to mumble, “Jaewook? He’s here?”

Jimin nodded frantically, hoping that Seokjin would be able to think of something, anything. He usually did. 

“Alright, Jimin. Listen closely. I don’t know where those two either, but the best place to look would be out towards the back where you entered. You should be able to find them in that alleyway because I’m sure they aren’t in here if some men got to them. They shouldn’t have gone far though. When you get to them, get to the penthouse immediately and tell Namjoon that there’s a code blue going on. I’ll make sure that things under control here.” Seokjin unbuttoned the few buttons of his waistcoat to pull out a pistol, handing it Jimin. “Hoseok taught you the basics you need to know about a gun to be able to protect yourself. Now go.”

“But what about you?” 

“I was able to protect myself from three men with some simple martial arts tactics and a switchblade. You need that gun more than I do. Now, Jimin, go. I’ll see you when I get there.” Seokjin placed a hand on Jimin’s cheek. 

With that surge of confidence, Jimin was off towards the back of the backdoors of the club with the gun pressed firmly in his hand. Finally accepting that blood was going to be shed, Jimin had a new agenda. 

Ensure that the blood that was shed wasn’t from Taehyung and Jungkook and getting out of here alive. 


	11. Get In and Get Out

Jaebum couldn’t stop his thoughts from racing. He should be focused. Focused solely on the feeling of Youngjae’s soft flesh filling the palms of his hand as he kneaded the plump skin of his thighs. The carressing of their tongues. The delicious friction on his clothed cock as he slowly but firmly ground his hips into Youngjae’s. 

“So good,” Youngjae breathed into Jaebum’s ear. That sent a shock straight down Jaebum’s spine and succeeded momentarily in clearing his mind. He bit hard into Youngjae’s neck eliciting a loud cry from the younger’s lips. That’s what he wanted: to hear this man moan continuously for him. It’s what he needed to take his mind off of Youngjae’s father and his job. 

Focus, Jaebum, focus. 

He ran a hand down Youngjae’s slightly rounded stomach that Jaebum had come to love. He still remembers Youngjae being reluctant to take off his shirt, afraid that Jaebum might not find him attractive with all of the extra weight in his stomach and thighs. Because of that, Jaebum always spent extra time kissing and fondling Youngjae’s stomach to prove just how sexy it was to him. 

And while Youngjae loved the extra attention Jaebum gave him, he wanted something more. He wanted to go all the way tonight. To bend over and arch his back for Jaebum while he revelled in the pleasure of being so filled by the older. Just the thought made him whimper and his toes curl.

“Jaebum, fuck me,” Youngjae whispered. “I’m ready.”

Jaebum lost his breath almost instantly. He toyed with the waistband of Youngjae’s boxers teasingly. “Are you sure?” He asked slowly taking one of Youngjae’s nipples into his mouth, sucking gently. 

“Yes!” Youngjae cried out at the feeling, his back bowing to encourage Jaebum to suck harder and to emphasize that he was absolutely sure that he wanted this. “I even stretched myself before we went out to dinner.” Youngjae’s voice lowered dangerously as he purposefully dragged his fingernails down Jaebum’s back for effect. “I have a plug in, Daddy. Just for you.” 

Jaebum stopped his process of leaving purple bruises on his lover’s chest to look up at him with hooded eyes. The burn of Youngjae’s nails trailing down his back, the word ‘Daddy’ rolling so perfectly off of his tongue, and the sheer  _ thought  _ of Youngjae being stuffed full with a plug all night was overwhelming Jaebum’s thoughts.  _ Finally.  _ He couldn’t think of anything else other than giving Youngjae exactly what he wanted and fucking him until they both were tired and spent. 

“Really, Kitten?” Jaebum growled, gliding down Youngjae’s body until he could kiss and mark Youngjae’s thighs next. 

“Mhm,” Youngjae purred, sighing breathlessly as Jaebum sunk his teeth into his thighs with just enough pressure to make him shake from the pain and pleasure. “I wanted to please you tonight. Be ready and open, all for you. Now please hurry, Daddy. I don’t wanna wait any longer.” Jaebum didn’t need any extra encouragement. Sucking another hickey into supple flesh, Jaebum wrenched Youngjae’s boxers down his thighs. Youngjae raised his legs so Jaebum could slide them completely off of his legs before carelessly throwing them to the floor.

“Please, please, please,” Youngjae whispered continuously. Without even thinking, he submissively spread his legs, and his hand quickly went to grab for his hardened erection but a strong grip on his wrist stopped him. 

“Don’t touch. Did I give you permission to touch what belongs to Daddy?” 

Even without being touched, Youngjae shivered at just the tone of his voice and groaned loudly at the blatant display of dominance, power, and possession. But he still wanted so, so bad to touch himself. He felt he was going to burst if he didn’t get some type of contact or friction. But despite that need, he wanted to be good.

“No, Daddy. Your kitten is sorry. I won’t do it again.” 

“Good,” Jaebum praised. With that, he placed his hands under the Youngjae’s knees and pushed at them until Youngjae’s thighs were pushed firmly against his stomach, spread open for Jaebum. “Look at you, Kitten,” Jaebum mused. “So beautiful. Hold you legs open for me.” Wordlessly, Youngjae obeyed, hooking his own hands under his knees to keep himself open as Jaebum pressed a single kiss to the turquoise, shimmering jewel firmly placed in his entrance. 

“You did all this for me?” Jaebum asked rhetorically. So lost within this pool of sheer pleasure, Youngjae actually opened his mouth to answer, but he was quickly cut off by a wet sudden heat engulfing his cock and an immense amount of pressure being applied onto the plug. Youngjae practically  _ screamed  _ at the feeling of the plug being pushed so deep inside his entrance and his cock so deep within Jaebum’s throat. He didn’t know whether to thrust his hips upward off of the mattress to get thrust into Jaebum’s mouth or thrust back to get the plug deeper in him and reach that place he  _ really  _ wanted to hit. 

“Oh God,” Youngjae gasped as Jaebum grabbed the plug and began thrusting it mercilessly into Youngjae before taking Youngjae’s cock as deep within his throat as he could handle. It was an understatement to say that he was in absolute heaven at the moment. 

“Oh, fuck! Just like that. Please, Daddy.” Youngjae’s hands flew down to clutch at Jaebum’s hair as the plug finally hit that one spot inside of him. With a slick pop, Jaebum removed himself from Youngjae’s cock. 

“Tell me how good it feels,” Jaebum growled, biting hard into Youngjae’s thigh. Absolutely loving the way the younger reacted whenever he did so.

“It feels a-amazing. You’re so g-good to me, Daddy. Please, don’t stop,” Youngjae gasped. He wasn’t too flexible so his legs were beginning to strain from being held open and spread for so long but the pleasure quickly overshadowed the dull ache. Judging by the pleasing ache in his lower stomach, he knew he was getting closer and closer to that edge. “Fuck me, please. I’m begging you. I wanna cum while you’re inside me. Please…!” 

“Alright, Kitten. You deserve it for being so patient.” Despite the praise, Jaebum laid a hard slap to the younger’s right thigh to which Youngjae gave a high pitched shriek to before gently petting the area to soothe him. He removed the plug slowly as to not hurt the rookie and when it was fully out, he placed it to the side and growled quietly at the sight of Youngjae’s hole clenching around nothing. So ready to be filled and stretched again. 

Youngjae was so wet and open that Jaebum doubted that he would need any more lube in the first place. Just for the fun of it, Jaebum ran his thumb over the younger’s glistening hole. 

“Ah! Please…” Youngjae moaned. Not really knowing what he was asking for anymore but still wanting something. Anything. Jaebum couldn’t help but groan and let his eyes roll back their sockets for a second. The sight of Youngjae spread like this with his hole literally trembling at just the slightest touch was just a bit too much to handle.

“You have no idea how much I wanna eat you out, kitten. Slide my tongue so deep in you. Maybe even have you sit on my face.” Youngjae’s cock twitched at the thought. The sheer image of being able to ride Jaebum’s face just drove him crazy. He’s never had anyone do that to him before and there was no doubt about it that Youngjae wanted Jaebum to be the first to do so.

His hands still hooked under thighs slipped a little from him being so sweaty, but he quickly grabbed them again, gripping his flesh this time to stay put for his Daddy. 

“But that’ll have to wait until next time. I can see how ready you are for this.”

“I am. I’m so ready,” Youngjae confirmed only for it to trail off into a low moan as he watched Jaebum stand up to remove his boxers. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. The thought of Jaebum fucking his throat crossed Youngjae’s mind making him throw his head back against the mattress with a guttural moan. Youngjae could practically  _ feel  _ how good it would be to have Jaebum weave his hands through his hair and shove all of his length past his lips. Making him take it. 

“Please, please… Please…! H-hurry, I-!”

Finally, Jaebum crawled over Youngjae’s body and kissed him, to stop him from begging and just to taste him. The kiss was sloppy yet filled with so much unnamed passion. The feeling of having Jaebum so close to him was always so overwhelming for him and he couldn’t get enough. He was so overwhelmed with pleasure, passion, and overall… love.

So while one of Jaebum’s hands reached above them to blindly search under the pillow for the foil packet as they kissed, Youngjae pulled away to look into Jaebum’s eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against Jaebum’s.

Jaebum’s feral look in his eyes softened. “I love you too, baby. So much.” Finally finding the condom packet, Jaebum pressed a firm kiss to Youngjae’s lips albeit much softer and sweet this time. But those words caused great guilt as his thoughts reminded him that he was hiding something huge from Youngjae.

“Sweetheart. I have to tell you something,” Jaebum sighed. He started to sit up again but Youngjae quickly wrapped his legs around Jaebum’s slender waist. 

“It can wait,” he rushed.

“It’s about your dad-”

“I don’t give two shits about my dad right now,” Youngjae snapped. “What I care about right now is this. You. In me… Don’t you want that, Daddy?” There was that suggestive glare again. Still filled with adoration and love but also of lust and want. 

“I do, kitten. I want to fill you up so bad,” Jaebum groaned as he rutted against Youngjae, the head of his cock catching momentarily on Youngjae’s rim. The feeling prompted Jaebum to rush just a bit. He pushed himself up on his knees to open the condom. He gave himself a few strokes first causing him to moan loudly at finally getting some relief. Rolling the condom on, he positioned himself at Youngjae’s gaping entrance.

At the slight contact, Youngjae still twitched and sighed as Jaebum pushed into him.

He would have to remember to send a text to his best friends BamBam and Yugyeom for telling him to put a plug in for the night. It was new and uncomfortable while they were at dinner but when he felt Jaebum push into him with little resistance, stretching him in all of the right ways, he realized that it was  _ so  _ worth it. 

“Oh my… fuck!” Youngjae gasped as Jaebum bottomed out completely. “That’s s-so good.” It was good, great even but he couldn’t deny the fact that it  _ hurt.  _ Attempting to adjust, Youngjae didn’t even realize the tears welling up.

Seeing the tears lining Youngjae’s eyes, Jaebum didn’t dare move, even if it took all of his self control not to. He didn’t want to hurt the younger. He leaned over Youngjae’s body, hooking his knees in the creases of his elbow, to kiss him gently, helping him relax. 

“Please move. Hurry, please. I want it,” Youngjae pleaded, gripping Jaebum’s shoulders for stability. 

“I got you, sweetheart,” Jaebum reassured, pressing a few soft kisses to Youngjae’s blushed cheeks, dotted with sweat. He kept his eyes on Youngjae as he slowly pulled out before pushing in again.

A few more slow thrusts and Youngjae’s toes were curling as he pleaded softly in Jaebum’s ear that he wanted more. “Harder. I can take it, Daddy,” Youngjae reassured, licking lightly at the older’s ear. “I want to feel this tomorrow when we go into work. I want everyone to know that you pounded my ass until I couldn’t walk straight. Mark me. Fuck me.  _ Own  _ me, Jaebum. I want it so bad.”

Jaebum wanted to be gentle, not wanting to hurt the younger when it was their first time actually having sex. But, all of the control that he initially possessed was tossed out of the window when Youngjae whispered that. 

He didn’t even bother to respond, just swiftly pulled out of Youngjae to flip him over onto his hands and knees. Youngjae presented himself so perfectly for Jaebum, pressing his face and shoulders into the mattress while keeping his ass high in the air. In one smooth thrist, Jaebum sank back into the wet heat that Youngjae’s entrance provided with a soft groan. 

Not even expecting it, Youngjae choked out a moan and fisted at the sheets. He loved being filled so perfectly. Jaebum wasn’t gentle in the slightest, clutching at Youngjae’s hips so hard he was sure they would leave marks as he snapped his hips rhythmically into Youngjae. 

“M-more! Oh, please, d-don’t stop! D-deeper,” Youngjae groaned, scratching at anything he could find stability on other than the sheets because he didn’t want to tear them. But this was too good for him to care about some torn sheets. 

When Jaebum gave a particularly angled thrust, directly hitting the rookie’s prostate, Youngjae couldn’t help but scream out as unexpected tears welled in his eyes. “R-right…T-there…” Youngjae blindly reached behind him to sink his nails into Jaebum’s thighs, spurring Jaebum on even further to continue to pound into him with a considerable amount of power. 

“Take it, Youngjae,” Jaebum growled. “Take it all. You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I-I am,” Youngjae whimpered, relishing in the pleasure bursting spontaneously under his skin. “Give it to me. I’m your slut. Oh my… Ah! Daddy!” He yelled when Jaebum raised his right hand only to bring it down on Youngjae’s asscheek. The sting was mind blowing.  _ More. _

With the combination of the delicious sight of Youngjae’s skin rippling from both his hard thrusts and the single spanking along with the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Youngjae’s ass, Jaebum couldn’t resist the urge to spank him a few more times until the pale skin of Youngjae’s ass was an angry red. 

Youngjae couldn’t  _ think.  _ There was so much pleasure coursing through his veins that he was practically trembling and couldn’t think of anything more than the feeling of Jaebum pounding him like he’d wanted for such a long time. As he reached down to stroke his cock as fast as his mind allowed, Youngjae realized he wanted more. He  _ needed  _ more. 

“Daddy… p-pull my h-hair. My h-hair p-please,” Youngjae moaned desperately wanting to feel Jaebum’s hands on him more. 

“So dirty,” was all Youngjae heard before Jaebum grabbed a fist full of Youngjae’s hair and pulled him up onto his knees so his back was pressed flat against Jaebum’s chest. This was so dirty and he loved it so, so much. Still stroking his hard cock, he cried out at the feeling of Jaebum lustfully biting into the sensitive skin of his neck. His eyes rolled as he focused on the feeling of Jaebum touching him everywhere. His cock buried deep within him, his tongue on his neck, a hand weaved tightly in his hair, and the other hand twisting and pinching at his nipples.  _ So good.  _

“G-gonna cum…! ‘M cumming, Daddy! Can I cum?” Youngjae pleaded. Jaebum gave a hard tug to Youngjae’s hair, making him bar his neck and arch his back to adjust to the sudden yank. Sucking one last hickey into his neck, Jaebum ground his cock into Youngjae’s prostate as he whispered, “Cum for me, Kitten. Show Daddy how good he’s made you feel tonight. Cum,” he demanded. 

Youngjae could feel the knot in his stomach grow tighter and tighter as the spasms under his skin took over all of his senses. He wanted to cum so bad, but Youngjae was so sensitive and overtaken with lust that he couldn’t move his wrist as quick as he needed. 

“Daddy…!” Youngjae whined desperately. Noticing Youngjae’s struggle, Jaebum gave one last, hard thrust as he pinched one of the younger’s nipples. That had Youngjae shaking as he yelled out for Jaebum. Youngjae’s mind was mush. His body was racked with pleasure from his orgasm. He was literally vibrating from it all as he opened his mouth to give a broken, wrecked scream towards the ceiling from Jaebum’s hand still pulling at his now burning scalp.

Softening his grip in Youngjae’s hair, Jaebum forcibly pushed Youngjae so he was kneeling over once again. “Fuck, I’m close,” Jaebum groaned, taking ahold of Youngjae’s hips again as he chased his orgasm. 

“Cum for me, Daddy,” Youngjae gasped. He used the last of his strength to cant his hips back to meet Jaebum’s thrusts, fisting at the sheets. “I want to make you feel good too,” he whined. The lewd, dirty wet sounds of their hips meeting and the clenching of Youngjae’s hole from overstimulation completely pushed Jaebum over the edge. He groaned out Youngjae’s name as he basically collapsed on top of Youngjae, but luckily caught himself on his arms before he could. 

As Jaebum slowly pulled out, Youngjae whined quietly. He didn’t like feeling so empty, and he suddenly wanted to cry from Jaebum pulling out without a warning. Hell, the rookie actually  _ did  _ begin to silently cry when he felt the mattress shift as Jaebum got off of the bed. He was so emotional all of sudden and didn’t even have an explanation for it. But honestly he didn’t care at the moment, he just wanted Jaebum to hold him. Cuddle him and tell him how much he loved him.

“J-Jaebum…” Youngjae whined quietly as he curled into himself. “Come back…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jaebum cooed, rushing back to the bed. The bed shifted again and then there was something cold on his face. Gosh, Youngjae didn’t realize how much he needed a cold towel until he actually had it. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I just wanna clean you up. Is that okay?”

“I love you,” Youngjae muttered, momentarily opening his eyes. Jaebum was a sight to behold and if he had the energy, he’d tackle him again. Jaebum chuckled as Youngjae closed his eyes once again.

“I love you too,” Jaebum whispered, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. Noticing a stray tear on his cheek, Jaebum softly wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. Jaebum really hated a pleading, crying cop, but Youngjae… He was an exception. The younger was beautiful when he cried, especially for him.

It took about five minutes for Jaebum to clean the both of them off- well substantially. But by the time he was done, Youngjae was fast asleep. Jaebum smiled and willed his thoughts away. 

Jaebum could tell Youngjae about his father in the morning. 

 

 

 

 

 

Honestly, Jimin couldn’t breathe. It didn’t seem his mind was focused on that fact because all he could think about was finding Taehyung and Jungkook. 

Careful not to draw too much attention to himself- which was easy because of all of the people and blaring music- Jimin rushed to the iron door towards the back that they had initially came in through. Jimin had the pistol grasped firmly in his hand just like Minseok had taught him, knowing that Jimin would need to use it more than just once on this mission. Jimin was thankful for all of those tedious lessons. 

Pushing the heavy door open, Jimin carefully closed it as to not make too much noise just in case there were men closeby. It was dark out there in the alleyway, and the fact that the alley led two different ways, left and right, wasn’t helping Jimin make a choice either. Noticing that his breathing was a bit too heavy, he held his breath for a while. Listening. Trying as best as he could to tune out the faint bass of the music to hear something. Anything. 

A few seconds passed then there it was. A vague groan of some sort from nearby. From the left. Jimin was moving before he had even told his legs to. His mind was too occupied remembering all of the tips advice his brothers and everyone else had given him. So no matter how much Jimin wanted to rush, he knew he needed to wait. Think first. Assess the situation.

Jimin moved silently but quickly against the cement wall towards the left of the club. He moved until he came to an opening, allowing him to turn, but then there was that groan again. It was closer and…familiar. 

“...Kook…” The voice groaned.

It was Taehyung. Jimin hastily but cautiously moved around the turn to see men scattered about on the ground. Whether they were dead or alive was unknown and JImin couldn’t find it within himself to care either. Especially when he saw Taehyung struggling to stand as one hand clutched at his side and the other pressed firmly on the wall. “Taehyung,” Jimin gasped. At the mentioning of his name so suddenly, Taehyung swiftly pulled out his own pistol and aimed it at Jimin. It was such a quick move that Jimin thought he was already as good as dead. 

“It’s me,” Jimin warned with wide eyes. Taehyung kept the gun raised for a few seconds as he stared at Jimin. Was he questioning his true identity? “It’s really me, Taehyung.” Jimin moved closer to see Taehyung’s face was bloody and his thin, black shirt was cut and soaked in blood from the wound on his side. 

Taehyung lowered the gun. “Come over here and help me then,” he demanded with a firm voice that was just a bit shaky. Jimin could hear the slight fear and panic in it. He knew it was because Jungkook wasn’t here. 

Jimin quickly rushed over, clicking the safety of his pistol on before hooking Taehyung’s arm over his shoulder. “I found out that they knew you guys were here,” Jimin began. “I immediately tried to find you. I checked every floor.”

“Those bitches ambushed me. As you can see, I protected myself for a while.” Taehyung gestured to the several men sprawled out and bloody on the ground. He let out a low groan from the sudden burst of pain from even using the muscles in his stomach. This shit hurt. “But those bitches kept coming. I had Jungkook helping me but… fuck. They were so many of ‘em that they managed to get and stab me. I can’t believe I let them take him.” 

“Don’t think that way,” Jimin rushed. “We just gotta find Jungkook. Where do you think they went?” 

Taehyung was silent for a second, not immediately answering. Just taking the time to think about it. His mind was still focused on the fact that Jungkook had gotten taken from him. He was so pissed.

“Taehyung, please. I really need you to think right now,” Jimin pushed, an irritated tone to his voice. Never in a million years would he talk to one of them that way, but it was obvious that Taehyung wasn’t thinking of anything other than the fact that he didn’t protect Jungkook. But if they didn’t do something  _ now  _ then Jungkook could be injured too… or worse. 

“Alright, look,” Taehyung began. “Like I said, I have no idea who they were. But I haven’t seen them around here before. So they most likely are going to take the quickest route to get out of here since they don’t know this alleyway like we do so follow me. They couldn’t have gone too far yet. If we hurry, we might be able to catch them before they get too far.” Taehyung started to struggle to stand on his own, without the support of Jimin, but that proved to be difficult as he hissed almost too loudly at the sudden surge of pain in his side as he moved. 

Despite that, Taehyung successfully stood on his own and was moving down the alleyway as fast as he could. With the gun still firmly pressed into his palm, Jimin followed close behind Taehyung on high alert. 

So many turns. So many corners in this stupid alleyway. And to Jimin, every fucking corner they rounded looked the exact same as the one before. All Jimin wanted to do was shout Jungkook’s name. But Taehyung seemed confident in what he was doing. But he definitely wasn’t sure if that was a facade or not. 

Jimin’s mind was drifting off- like it usually did in stressful situations-when Taehyung abruptly stopped in front of him and raised his gun. Shocked and honestly confused by the suddenness of it all, Jimin still managed to raise his gun and focus in on the situation at hand. And that’s when he heard what Taehyung must’ve heard. Shuffling and then some gasps for breath. A struggle of some sort before there was a gruff voice whispering, “Go to sleep, you little brat. Die. I wanted to keep you alive, but no. You kept fighting.” 

_ Little brat? Was he talking to Jungkook?  _

Jimin listened more intently, holding his breath. Judging by the couple of deep breaths, there was more than just two people there. There were more. 

Another harsh gasp from around the corner and more shuffling. Whoever it was, was most definitely being strangled and kicking around in this struggle.

Was that Jungkook?

They needed to act. Hurry. Now. Do something right fucking now before they killed him. It had to be Jungkook. Jimin was practically shaking. He looked to Taehyung and with just that simple look of seriousness- just a split second glance- Jimin knew what he needed to do. 

Taehyung wanted him to take out the main guy. One well aimed gunshot could do the trick. Okay, he could do that. 

Even with his wound, Taehyung rounded the corner with a fluid, celerity, pistol whipping the first guy he laid his eyes on. Adjusting to the scene, it was exactly what they had initially thought. There were two men and one woman standing around while one man had his arm firmly clasped around Jungkook’s throat. Jungkook tried with all of his might to claw the man’s arm away or sink his nails hard enough into any part of the man’s body to get his strength to falter but nothing worked. In fact, with all of his struggling, the grip on his neck just seemed to get tighter. At that point, Jungkook had tears lining his eyes as he gasped for some type of air. Jungkook was just this close from giving up hope of survival. 

But that hope sparked again when Taehyung and Jimin showed up. The single second of shock that passed through all of them when Jimin and Taehyung made an appearance was just enough time to Taehyung the upper hand on the two men and the woman. A single whip of his pistol across one of the burley men’s face. A roundhouse kick and a few punches to the other man’s face. Then there was the woman left. Taehyung didn’t hit woman by any means. He could never put his hands on a woman. If his pathetic parents taught him one thing, it was that. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t  _ shoot  _ a woman if the circumstances called for it. 

So when Jimin shot his gun, the woman faltered once again at the abruptness of the piercing sound of a gun going off. Just that one, measly reflex, thanks to the woman’s brain, got her life taken as Taehyung raised his gun, aiming straight for her chest- he only wanted to have to shoot the woman once- and pulled the trigger. Watching her body fall was his favorite part. 

While Taehyung fought, Jimin rounded the corner and raised his gun as soon as he realized who the ring leader was. This man with his arm around Jungkook’s throat. 

Time slowed down. Jimin had a job. He knew what he had to do and he knew that he could easily do it. Put a bullet in this man’s head before he strangled Jungkook to death but… 

Could he kill someone? He knew that he would have to kill  _ someone  _ while he was here. No doubt that Jimin would have to kill more people, and possibly in even more gruesome ways than just putting a bullet in their skull. But Jimin had to live with this. This guilt of taking someone’s life. No matter what this man did, he was a son of someone. Possibly a husband and maybe even a father. Could Jimin really handle that responsibility? 

_ “Victory. Bring home success, Jiminie”  _ His brothers said. He wanted to make them proud.

_ “Brothers, Jiminie. Brothers trust each other,”  _ Jungkook and Taehyung said. He wanted them to trust him. He wanted to be praised and told that he had done a good job. Be considered a brother.

That. That’s what pushed him. One deep breath before he aimed directly for this man’s head, who was desperately trying to finish the job before Taehyung finished fighting the others. Jimin wondered if this man even noticed him from back here. But he didn’t care if he did or didn’t because it no longer mattered as Jimin pulled the trigger. He reveled in the feeling of recoil as the man jerked and dropped back. As soon as the man dropped dead, the woman did too, her delicate frame collapsing to the ground from a bullet to the chest delivered by Taehyung.

Taehyung rushed to Jungkook’s side as he coughed and gasped for dear life, his body calming down from almost  _ dying.  _ Jimin would’ve rushed too, but he was still drowning in his thoughts. He’d just killed a man.

“Kookie, are you okay?” Taehyung asked but the only response he was given was a few more harsh coughs as he attempted to kneel but failed. Taehyung panted frantically as he kneeled and pulled Jungkook into his chest. “I thought they had killed you. I swear that’ll never happen to you again. I'm gonna protect you.”

“S-s-stop…” Jungkook tried, a strident roughness to his voice. “S-stop… acting like… I-I can’t...” Another fit of coughing. “Protect myself… You don’t… need to protect me, Tae.”

Taehyung scoffed at Jungkook before he looked to Jimin who was just standing over them, waiting. But Taehyung looked at him- his black eye and busted lip showing proudly. Jimin didn’t know what to think of it, so he just looked back before remembering Jin’s words.

“I saw Seokjin inside of the club,” Jimin blurted, kneeling down to get closer to the both of them. Yeah, they’d gotten Jungkook back but they needed to get the fuck out of here. His mind drifted backward again. He’d  _ killed  _ someone… 

“Jin’s here?” Jungkook asked with a worried furrow of his brow, seemingly forgetting about his own problem. “Why? Those bitches could’ve gotten to him too!” Jungkook hissed. “We have to go back!”

“Jin specifically told me to get you guys out of here when I found you. He said go back to the penthouse and tell Namjoon about a code blue or something,” Jimin supplied. 

“Well you guys go back to the penthouse,” Jungkook said in a barely audible voice that was incredibly scratchy but determined. “I’m not leaving Seokjin here. I refuse.”

Jimin was ready to protest, but Taehyung spoke first. “I know there is no changing your mind about this… so fine. You go back to the club with Seokjin. Jimin and I will go back to the penthouse and get Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok updated on the situation as a whole. Alright?” Taehyung looked to Jimin, who absentmindedly nodded. 

The three of them stood, Taehyung noticeably wincing at the wound as the adrenaline racing through his veins wore off and he was met with more pain. “You’re injured,” Jungkook said. “Get to the house quickly. Hurry up. And please be careful, Tae." He whispered the last part. Jungkook looked to Jimin, instantly seeing right through him. With no more words, Jungkook pat Jimin’s shoulder twice before squeezing lightly. Then he was off in the direction which he and Taehyung came without looking back at them. 

“Alright, Jimin. Follow me back to the car.”

Jimin’s mind couldn’t even think of any words, let alone make a complete sentence, so he just nodded. His mind was focused on so many different things at once that Jimin felt his head could explode. Honestly though, he would really like for his head to explode. 

Jimin didn’t even register the fact that they were walking at all until there was a flash of headlights from Taehyung pressing a button to unlock the car doors. Jimin blinked a few times and swallowed the saliva that built up at the back of throat from his body momentarily short circuiting while walking here. 

Luckily, the nausea and the need to hurl came  _ before  _ he got into the car. 

Vomiting had never been so relieving for Jimin as he emptied everything in his stomach. Both food and the uneasiness all onto the ground of this alleyway where it’d always be infamous for where Jimin had killed his first person. 

What an achievement. Jongin and Baekhyun would be so proud… Right? 

The tears came right after the vomiting. When he’d entered the passenger seat of the car, Taehyung asked if he was okay and why he was crying. Jimin blamed it on the vomiting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add development to Youngjae and Jaebum's relationship since something is going to happen with them pretty soon (Oops, is that a spoiler????). I laughed and giggled at myself the entire time I was writing the scene with them for some reason. I just couldn't stop. Haha!
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will be about the 'code blue' going on and how they're gonna deal with. Maybe an update on the Lotus depending on how long it takes to write because my college finals are killing me this week.
> 
> But yeah, I love you all. Thank you for reading!
> 
> With all love,  
> Mochi


	12. An Agreement We Had

“Update me on Jimin,” Asami ordered as soon as she entered Baekhyun’s office, shutting the door behind her. She dropped her purse onto the hardwood floor before pulling a chair up in front of Baekhyun’s desk.

“Good evening to you too, Mama,” Baekhyun sighed with a hint of sarcasm to his voice at his mom’s sour attitude. He lowered his laptop screen and leaned back in his cushioned chair as he focused all of his attention solely on his mother. 

Asami pompously sat in the chair she pulled up and delicately crossed one of her legs over the other, slipping her signature diamond studded sunglasses off of her face. Baekhyun laughed quietly at his mother’s heightened sense of self importance today. She wore a new diamond studded watch and matching studded sunglasses along with the expensive black pantsuit and tie that hugged her body. Asami was always quite imperious, presumptuous, and- dare Baekhyun say it- conceited, but all of this was a bit over the top, even for her.

Today must be a special day.

“Sorry, honey,” Asami giggled, giving a flip of her hair. Yeah, today was definitely meaningful in some way. “I have to hurry because me and your dad are going to have a really fantastic night since tonight is our 25th anniversary.”

“Congratulations, mama,” Baekhyun smiled. Asami gave an identical smile in return. A few years ago, Baekhyun probably wouldn’t have admitted that he looked  _ a lot  _ like his mother. But looking at her now as they both shared a smile, Baekhyun felt like he was looking at the female version of himself. They were both small in stature with really soft facial features and bright eyes. 

“Thank you.” The sweet smile of his mother soon turned cold as she stared Baekhyun straight in the eye. “However… I couldn’t bring myself to leave to go on some date without at least checking on my son. The son that’s literally in the middle of an incredibly dangerous mission that can end horribly with just one slip up.” 

Oh. She was still bitter about that. While he would like to roll his eyes at it, Baekhyun could understand her worry because he vividly recalls being just as bitter about sending the situation before Jimin called that day when he and Jongin were in the car that day and ensured that he was okay. Gosh, he was more like this woman than he’d previously thought. He wondered what parts of Kang-Dae he had inherited. Jongin was more like Kang-Dae though. Not in looks and physical features but rather in traits and habits.

“He called about a week ago. He’s in and works closely with Seokjin and Hoseok,” Baekhyun informed.

“The heir’s little play toy and their hacker?” 

“Yeah. He also seems to have caught the attention of the youngest son and his friend, Jungkook and Taehyung.”

“Caught their attention in what way?” Asami leaned in with furrowed brows. “Elaborate further, Baekhyun.”

“I don’t have any specifics just yet. All he said was that they seem to have interest in him. Wanting him to be a part of their ‘family’ or brotherhood of sorts. I recall him saying that they all treat him as if he’s some fragile child. However, I-”

Asami’s deep huff of breath interrupted him. “Is there a problem, Mama?”

“Baekhyun…” Asami said quietly though a hint of irritation was still present. “Jimin  _ is  _ fragile. As fragile as a child even. He hasn’t left the house for nearly all of his life with limited knowledge on how this business works. He’s like a ball of clay. Soft, pliable, and waiting to be molded.”

“That’s what gives us an advantage here. Jimin was able to get up the ranks so quickly and given an opportunity to gain trust because of his innocence. That was the whole point of sending Jimin in the first place… right?” Baekhyun usually didn’t question his actions because he never had the reason to. There was never a time where Baekhyun didn’t think everything through with strict eyes and determined accuracy. The decisions he made were usually the right ones too. 

But now that Asami- his mother that taught him almost everything he knows- was questioning him and now he couldn’t help but do the same. 

“...Think about it Baekhyun. I taught you and Jongin to assess the situation before making a decision, right?”

“Yeah. That’s your number one rule,” Baekhyun uttered, racking his brain for what his mother could possibly be talking about. To Baekhyun, this plan was almost perfect. Sure, Jimin would probably come back with a few skeletons in the closet and maybe even a bit of PTSD, but that’s nothing that can’t be solved with some therapy. There was nothing wrong with this plan in his mind. 

“When I say assess the situation, Baekhyun, I mean from  _ both sides.  _ There’s two sides to every situation.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes widened as he had a sudden epiphany.

With that, his mother put her shades back over her eyes and looked down at the sparkling watch on her wrist. “I have to go now. Your father is waiting in the car.” And with that, his mother picked up her purse and was walking out of Baekhyun’s office, leaving him in silence. 

What had he done? How could he have been so stupid?

He blinked several times trying to think this through again. Because there was simply  _ no way _ that he and Jongin would miss such an obvious flaw in their plan. In Jimin’s innocence. 

“Master Baekhyun, I just escorted your mother outside and-” Chanyeol entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Upon seeing Baekhyun seemingly in shock as the aforementioned stayed frozen in the same spot, Chanyeol whipped his gun from its holster on his hip. “Is there anyone I need to take care of? Is there a problem?” Chanyeol was always on high alert and Baekhyun appreciated that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” Baekhyun repeated as he slammed his laptop closed and stood. Chanyeol’s eyes followed his movements. “Where’s Jongin?” 

“He’s currently having a small meeting with Minseok, Jongdae, and Junmyeon in the living room before they leave for the night.”

Baekhyun was rushing from behind his desk without another word, Chanyeol following close behind him without questioning the situation at all. Baekhyun was thankful for that because he honestly didn’t want to spend time explaining when he could be spending time trying to figure out some sort of solution to this problem. 

If there was one. 

Since they were in the penthouse, Baekhyun was free to run like his brain so desperately wanted to. 

“Jongin!” Baekhyun called as he descended the staircase into the living room. Indeed, Minseok, Junmyeon, and Jongdae were standing up from the couches when Baekhyun’s voice echoed throughout the room. Jongin and Kyungsoo stayed sitting on the couch.

“What’s the problem, Baek?” Jongin questioned.

“I need to talk to you,” Baekhyun said. “Now. It’s urgent.”

“Well since Baekhyun seems to have an important matter to discuss, we will take our leave now,” Junmyeon said, giving a slight bow in both of the heirs direction. Minseok followed while Jongdae, being one of the newest members, bowed deeply to Jongin, thanking him for his time. 

“Chanyeol and I will also leave for the night. We will see you tomorrow,” Kyungsoo supplied. Receiving a nod of confirmation from both Jongin and Baekhyun to leave, the two assistants headed for the door too.

When the door shut, Jongin turned towards his younger brother. “So? What’s so urgent?” 

“It’s Jimin. I think we might have made a mistake with sending him so early,” Baekhyun said, attempting to keep his nerves under control because he hated losing his composure in front of Jongin. “I just talked to Mama and I realized something that we so stupidly missed.”

Jongin motioned for him to continue, a hard look to his eyes. 

“We know that Jimin’s innocence aided him in being trusted by them there. Unlike we originally thought, his innocence  _ is  _ a hindrance. It’s a two way street, Jongin. He gains trust but his naivety can also give them a clear opportunity to take advantage of Jimin in several ways. That includes sexually, psychologically, and mentally. They can exploit him in ways that we both know and don’t want to happen. I honestly feel like a dumbass for not considering that fact sooner.”

While Baekhyun ranted, spewing all of his worries through excessive wording like he usually did, Jongin just stared. The initial look of concern was long ago replaced with one of indifference as he let Baekhyun finish ranting. 

“How can you be so calm about this, Jongin?” Baekhyun sighed exasperatedly. “Don’t you feel at least a bit of fucking remorse? It’s almost like you just don’t care or-” Baekhyun voice came to a sudden stop as he looked at Jongin closely. Jongin raised a brow at him in questioning at the accusatory look Baekhyun was giving him.

“What?”

“You… You fucking knew this didn’t you?” Baekhyun uttered, narrowing his eyes dangerously at his older brother. “That’s why you’re standing here. You  _ knew  _ the risks that we were throwing Jimin into, don’t you?” His fists curled subconsciously as the anger in his chest rose. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know  _ exactly  _ what I’m talking about. That’s why you were so adamant about sending him into the 7 Point so early. You wanted to send him in there with limited knowledge of what the hell was going on. You knew he would get used in every sense of the word. Used. Exploited.”

Jongin looked at Baekhyun for a few seconds more without saying anything. The few seconds of silence only made Baekhyun angrier, though. He was seconds from raising his fist and smashing it right against Jongin’s jaw. Yeah, he was smaller, but that fact was one of the last things that Baekhyun was worried about. 

“Why is it such a big deal?” 

“He’s our brother!” Baekhyun yelled, instantly losing his grip on his anger when those words came out of Jongin’s mouth. The  _ audacity _ of Jongin to say those words. And with such calmness to his voice as if Jimin wasn’t a big deal A huge deal. Baekhyun was ready to explode. “We agreed that we would send Jimin in there with a formidable amount of knowledge to get this mission done as accurately as possible. You shortened his period of training and I was stupid enough to let you, thinking that you would truly care about what the hell we were sending Jimin into! But I guess I was wrong!”

“The less he knows, the less likely he is to overthink things, Baekhyun. We both know how Jimin is under pressure and he will choke up and possibly get himself killed. So it was no use in cramming all of that information in his mind anyway,” Jongin scoffed, his tone still smooth and calm compared to Baekhyun’s yelling. “Yes, I knew that Jimin would get used, exploited, manipulated in every possible way. Even moreso, since he doesn’t have all of the knowledge he needs.”

“Then why send him  _ knowing _ these things?” Baekhyun gritted.

“For success. For the Lotus Syndicate,” Jongin said as if it was the most obvious thing.

Baekhyun couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. “You sacrificed Jimin for some fucking mission, Jongin. You’re lucky that I don’t slap the piss out of you right here and right now.”

“It’ll all be worth it when Jimin comes back. You’ll see.”

“What if he doesn’t come back, Jongin? You ever think about that?”

“He will,” Jongin sighed, like this conversation was boring him now and he just wanted Baekhyun to drop it. He even turned around to walk towards the staircase, already slipping his phone from his pocket to tell Kyungsoo to return for the night. 

But no. Baekhyun wasn’t going to just drop it and leave it alone. 

“How do you know that? What if he falls in love with one of them? You think he’s gonna wanna come back after that?” Baekhyun questioned. The edge and irritation was returning to his voice.

Time seemed to freeze for a second. Jongin’s breath hitched and he stopped in his path towards the door. His mind going completely blank. He felt like his throat had closed a bit. “What?” was all he could manage to say as the question ran through his mind a few times.

“You heard me, Jongin.,” Baekhyun snarled. “What if Jimin falls in love? There’s no doubt that they are going to find every single weakness that  _ you  _ sent him there with and every weakness that he just naturally has. We both know just how much Jimin loves praise. Just one, simple compliment has him swooning and keening. They will manipulate that. Jimin’s in there all by himself and he will definitely seek comfort, even if it’s subconscious. He’s gonna look for comfort. The 7 Point will notice this. And manipulate  _ that  _ too. We know how this works. Manipulation. Power play. Giving him a fucked up idea of what ‘family’ means. Jimin’s most likely gonna fall in love. And he might not want to come back.”

“You think he’d do that to us?” Jongin muttered quietly, his mind still attempting to catch up.

“Love makes you do some fucked up things.”

“We’re his family,” Jongin insisted, turning around to face Baekhyun again with a new sense of fierceness to his gaze. But Baekhyun saw through that facade. That fierceness was just worry, guilt, and regret. “He wouldn't do that to us.” It sounded a bit more like a question than a statement.

“We never know. But I’m sure when they’re done with Jimin, he’ll see them as some sort of family too. They will make sure of that because that’s where loyalty comes from. Loyalty requires trust. Trust requires a connection. A strong one,” Baekhyun said. 

Jongin didn’t say anything. Just looked. Suddenly, everything came crashing down as Jongin’s mind finally caught up and he was hit harshly by the sudden realization of what he’d done. And it hit him hard. 

Normally, Baekhyun would’ve felt a bit remorseful for Jongin making such a stupid mistake but he couldn’t. Not when he sent Jimin into this mission with little preparation. Purposefully. 

Baekhyun felt a small wave of anguish wash over him at the thought.

Jimin must be so terrified. 

Baekhyun ran a hand through his hair before heading for the staircase in place of Jongin. “Oh!” Baekhyun said before grabbing the gold railing of the staircase. “If Jimin doesn’t come back. We know how Mama will react. She’ll probably want to murder everyone involved in this mission… Starting with you.” Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at Jongin even though he was facing the other way. 

“Good night,” Baekhyun said before ascending the staircase without looking back.

  
  
  
  
  


“-min. Jimin. Jimin!” 

Hearing his name being yelled at him, Jimin was rudely forced out of his thoughts. But he couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for that because he so close to becoming engulfed in them that he’d probably need to vomit again. 

“Y-yes, Taehyung?” 

Taehyung glanced at him for a split second before looking back at the road. He needed all of his attention focused on driving because it was already a difficult task because of the wound in his side. It was painful but Taehyung could handle it. Besides, he couldn’t let Jimin drive because the boy was constantly sinking in and out of his thoughts and would probably forget that he was behind the wheel.

Matter of fact, he doubted Jimin even knew how to drive. 

“Under your seat, there should be a metal box. In there should be me and Jungkook’s phones. Hurry and give them to me,” Taehyung advised.

It was like Jimin’s body was moving on his own now because his mind was definitely short circuiting and was focused on nothing else but the fact that he had just taken someone’s life. And their body was still laid, forgotten, in that alleyway.

Jimin leaned forward and blindly felt under the seat before his fingers touched cold metal. Sliding it from under the seat, he straightened up and put the box on his lap before opening it.

“The wider one is mine. Call Namjoon for me and connect it to the car’s bluetooth. The password is 12307.”

Without a word, Jimin followed his instructions, almost robot-like. He pulled the wider of the two phones from from the box and typed in the password. “Are you alright?” Taehyung asked, a hint of concern in his voice, as he took notice to the stoic look in Jimin’s eyes and his stiff movements. If half of his face wasn’t covered by the anti-pollution mask, Taehyung was sure that his bottom lip would probably by wobbling right now.

“I don’t know,” Jimin found himself answering before seeing that there was about eight missed calls from Namjoon. He pressed the green button next to the missed call notifications to call back. Taehyung had opened his mouth to ask Jimin what he meant by that but the ringing of the phone echoing throughout the space of the car stopped him. 

Namjoon answered on the second ring. Must have been waiting for his call. 

“Where are you? Where’s Jin and Jungkook? Are they with you? What about Jimin?” Namjoon interrogated, questions spewing from his lips like he just couldn’t wait to get them from his mind. Jimin couldn’t deny the fact that he was rather surprised that Namjoon asked about him. Was he worried about him too? Jimin pondered while looking at the glowing lights of the night life as they entered central Seoul again.

“I’m not far from the hotel actually. I only have Jimin with me. The mission went completely awry. I’ll tell you the rest of the details when I get there. As for the whereabouts of Jin and Jungkook, they stayed at the club. I don’t have any updates on them so far,” Taehyung informed. He gave a slight hiss when he had to make a sharp turn left and had to whip the wheel left. He never knew just how many muscles he used to do something as simple as driving. 

“Why did they stay?”

“I don’t know why Jin stayed but Jungkook refused to leave Seokjin at the club alone and insisted that he go back and look for him.”

Namjoon sighed. Jimin could imagine him face-palming. “Typical Jungkook.”

There was a moment of silence in the car and over the line. Taehyung most likely waiting to be asked something else or dismissed. But Namjoon’s rough, low voice resounded again.

“Is the call connected to the car?” Namjoon asked after a moment.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Jimin…?” 

Jimin’s eyes widened as he shifted his gaze to look down at the radio like Namjoon could see that. It was a silly move so Jimin hurriedly said, “yes?” It was muffled behind the tight mask but loud enough for Namjoon to hear clearly. 

“Are you okay? I’m sure tonight was pretty god damn hectic.”

“...I’m not sure, Master Namjoon,” Jimin answered shakily. Not really wanting to be asked anything further, Jimin was grateful when Taehyung turned into a garage that led underground. Taehyung lowered the car window and leaned out of the window- with a much louder groan from the pain- to punch in a code. 

“We are here, sir. I will see you upstairs,” Taehyung said.

“Okay, hurry up.” Soon after, the call ended with a loud ‘beep.’ While Jimin pocketed the phone, the garage door ascended allowing Taehyung to drive in. 

  
  


The elevator ride up to the top floor was quiet. And while usually, Taehyung would try to make small conversation, he simply refused to bother himself with that when he had to lean against the walls of the elevator because he was so fucking light headed from the blood loss. Jimin would be fine for now. 

The elevator doors opened right into a small room of sorts that led to another door that was made of glass. Presumably this small room was where guests left their shoes, coats, and other things before actually entering the penthouse. Deeming that he himself was a guest, Jimin absentmindedly began to toe off his shoes. 

“Help me out,” Taehyung groaned, slightly elevating one of his feet. Jimin chuckled lightly and shortly under his mask at that before kneeling to untie Taehyung’s shoes and slip them off his feet.

The laugh was slight but Taehyung was glad that Jimin was still somewhere in that mind of his and that he wasn’t still absent from the shock. It was good because Namjoon would most likely beat Taehyung if he let Jimin experience that type of shock on the first mission. And Taehyung was already in enough pain.

After removing both shoes, Jimin straightened and allowed Taehyung to use a key to open the door to the penthouse suite. As soon as the door opened, Jimin wanted to leave right away. Just the luxury of the home reminded Jimin of his own family penthouse. 

The thought of his family had Jimin sighing audibly.

“Taehyung? Is that you?” 

It was Yoongi’s voice instead of Namjoon’s voice. 

Yoongi’s small frame was clad in a pair of pajama pants and a robe while he sipped leisurely from a mug. Jimin wondered if Yoongi knew that there was even a problem in the first place, judging by the fact that Yoongi came in looking like he was just lounging about. 

“Namjoon should be down in a minute,” Yoongi’s calm expression turned cold as his eyes laid upon Jimin and Taehyung. Specifically Taehyung’s state.

“Tae, what the hell? You alright?” 

Turning to see what the problem was, Jimin gasped. Taehyung looked like he’d been through hell and seemed like he would pass out any given moment. His skin was much paler than usual, the blood from his wound had soaked through most of his clothes and the cuts and bruises on his face wasn’t helping the situation much either. 

Jimin felt sick just looking at him. He felt somewhat guilty that he hadn’t noticed just how bad of a state Taehyung was in before. 

Jimin concluded that he really needed to pull his shit together. Right there. And right now. 

“Hoseok!” Yoongi called out, setting his mug down on a nearby corner table. 

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I just got a small wound in my side. I just need to sit down,” Taehyung reassured with a weak, wavering voice. Despite this reassurance, Yoongi was still by his side in seconds, slinging Taehyung’s arm around his shoulder. “All that blood doesn’t look like it’s from a small wound.”

When Hoseok and Namjoon came running down the stairs, they reacted the same way. 

“Damn, Tae,” Namjoon sighed. “Hobi, take him upstairs and clean him up and stitch up whatever wound he has.”

“Sir, I still have to relay the information about tonight,” Taehyung insisted, weakly refusing to accept Hoseok’s help. 

“Go with Hoseok. We can’t have you die or Jungkook will explode in anguish and we don’t need that. Plus, we have Jimin here to tell us the information.” 

Jimin’s eyes widened and his body became rigid at his words. Jimin really didn’t want to talk to Yoongi. It was no secret that Yoongi was not fond of Jimin at all. He would much rather talk to Namjoon alone. But he didn’t have a choice. He’d half to deal with Yoongi one day. 

And today, Jimin decided that he would get Yoongi to like him or at least tolerate him just like everyone else. If this mission was going to be a success, he would need all of them to trust and like him enough. 

Taehyung gave another reluctant glance at Yoongi and Namjoon before allowing himself to lean on Hoseok as the latter practically carried him towards stairs because Taehyung was literally half conscious. Jimin was sure that by the time Hoseok laid him down to tend to his wounds, Taehyung would pass out. 

“If he needs more severe help, call the physician and tell them to get their asses here asap,” Namjoon called after them as they slowly began their ascendance up the rounded staircase. 

“Will do,” Hoseok said back.

Yoongi and Namjoon then turned their attention to Jimin who was still standing in the same place next to the door. “So, Jimin.” Namjoon was the first to speak. “Give me the details of what happened tonight. Just the facts, I don’t need anything more.” 

Jimin knew what he was talking about when he said he needed only the facts. Jongin frequently used to rant to him and Baekhyun about how long meetings went on simply because the men and women wanted to sound intelligent and literally drawl on and on about something that can easily be explained in about two sentences.  

Jimin cleared his throat and stood up straighter, attempting to get rid of the stiffness in his body. He remembered Jongin’s words when they were practicing the day before he was sent here.  _ You can’t hesitate. Don’t think too much. Because when you think, you doubt yourself,  you end up like this. Stuck and frozen. Something like this could have you dead in a matter of seconds. _

So Jimin didn’t think too much. Just told them exactly what came to mind because this time, he wasn’t hiding anything. Sure he was here undercover but the mission tonight included no foul-play on his part. 

He cleared his throat and spoke loud enough to be heard past his mask. It really was becoming a nuisance. 

“I was told by Taehyung and Jungkook that we would be doing a simple poisoning and gathering any blackmail, if there was any. A man by the name of Luhan informed me to carry around drinks as a cover. I came across a tucked away space where all of the men were sitting. One of the men were incredibly drunk and mentioned Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s name. That’s how I knew that the men knew about the mission tonight-”

“What men?” Yoongi asked. His mug was back in his hands but he wasn’t drinking from it but seemed to be basking in the warmth of its contents.

Jimin initially had tried to remember all of the names from the top of his head but recalled that he had written everything on his arm. So he wrenched the thin fabric of his left sleeve up to his elbow to show the two. 

“I wrote them all down here,” Jimin said. Namjoon looked impressed while Yoongi just set his mug down once again to get a closer look at Jimin’s arm. 

“I don’t know half of these names,” Yoongi muttered to himself more than anyone else. “... Jae-Wook? Do you think that it’s really him? Because-”

Jimin was forgetting something. He stopped listening to Namjoon and Yoongi’s conversation to think about what the hell he was forgetting to tell them. He couldn’t afford to forget now. Did it have to do with Taehyung? Jungkook?... Seokjin…Yes... Seokjin said something… He said something about a… 

“Code blue,” Jimin blurted. “Seokjin said to tell you about a code blue. I don’t know what that means though. But Seokjin told me to tell you.”

Namjoon looked to Yoongi with a look Jimin couldn’t read and didn’t even try to read honestly. “Is this really worthy of a code blue?” Yoongi said skeptically, his hand still skimming across the skin of Jimin’s forearm, raising goosebumps in their wake.

“If Seokjin thinks so, it probably is. I’m gonna call Hyuna.” Namjoon was already walking away before he finished. Jimin didn’t miss the warning look that Namjoon threw at Yoongi and definitely didn’t miss the annoyed eye roll Yoongi gave in return as Namjoon ran up the stairs. 

“Yoongi…” Jimin said, softly. Yoongi turned to Jimin with a raised eyebrow. Jimin’s heart kicked in his chest from Yoongi’s intense stare and instantly regretted calling his name in the first place. But he tried not to let it show through his eyes. He was suddenly grateful for this mask. 

“What?”

“Do you know that man named Jae-Wook?” Jimin questioned. “While I was looking for Taehyung and Jungkook, I walked past a room on the third floor of the club. I overheard your name. Jae-Wook was talking about you to someone else. He seemed to be acquainted with you.”

“I’m not acquainted with that fucker,” Yoongi snapped with a dangerous glint to his stare. “And you say he was talking about me?”

“Y-yes,” Jimin nodded. 

“What did he say about me, Jimin?” The way he said Jimin’s name. Jimin blinked slowly and exhaled a breath he had been holding. 

“Based off of what I heard, you seem to have some files of his in your possession. He seems to know you personally as he was talking about the power you lack and how this mafia is your own way of making up for your shortcomings.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. His entire body became tense and rigid at Jimin’s words as he balled his fists and visibly gritted his teeth. “Really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me that,” Yoongi snapped.” It’s just Yoongi. I don’t need you to kiss up to me. That shit makes you even more annoying than you already are,” Yoongi finished with a grimace. Jimin tried not to take the statement personally. Yoongi was just upset and, of course, he was going to hear a lot more insults and worse while he was here.

But it hurt his feelings a bit. Maybe a lot.

But he ignored the dull ache in his chest nonetheless. He didn’t need to be liked, he told himself, he needed to be tolerated. And Yoongi was tolerating him right now.  

“Sorry, Yoongi,” Jimin uttered to which Yoongi only grunted in acknowledgement.

“...so it really is Jae-Wook?” Yoongi asked himself quietly. “And he was working with some of these unknown men? He’s had to get some connections from somewhere to set this up. He probably contacted the Lotus in some way.”

Jimin frowned at the mentioning of the Lotus. From what he knew, Jimin had never heard the name Jae-Wook while with his brothers. This had to be some mistake. “What?”

“The Lotus Syndicate is another mafia that we compete with. We’ve kept the peace for a while, Jimin. But you see, the new heir over there, Kai, thinks that our little agreement doesn’t matter. A lot of shit has been going on lately and who else could it possibly be? One of those petty street gangs? Ha! Please,” Yoongi explained, scoffing as he rolled his eyes. 

It was almost like Yoongi dismissed him, and he most likely did since Yoongi had turned around and started walking away from him, but Jimin had to know more. 

Jimin hadn’t recognized any of the men tonight but he never thought about the idea that these men could be from the Lotus. But the last time he had checked, he was here to gather information of what the 7 Point Syndicate was planning. 

Had Jongin and Baekhyun started sabotaging the 7 Point Syndicate already? No. They couldn’t have. That’s why he was here. To gather information so they can figure out if they should begin this full on war with the 7 Point Syndicate. Because they all knew, whether they admitted it or not, that the termination of this agreement would only end in war.

Jimin followed after Yoongi closely as they entered the kitchen. Very contemporary and clean. He expected nothing less of Namjoon.

“Sir- I mean Yoongi. If you don’t mind me asking, why would you think that this is the Lotus Syndicate? Especially if there was an agreement to keep the peace. While this is just an opinion of mine, I do not think the Lotus Syndicate would simply annihilate a treaty without good reasoning. It simply doesn’t seem to be the logical thing to do.”

Yoongi reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a wine glass and a bottle of expensive looking wine. He looked as if he was ignoring Jimin completely as he poured the wine in the glass without responding or even looking Jimin’s way. But Jimin didn’t budge, he stood there and waited persistently until Yoongi caught onto the message. 

“I just have a hunch,” Yoongi said curtly as he sipped from the glass. “This business is full of snakes. You’ll learn one day.”

“I just… I hope you can reconsider-”

“Jimin, shut up,” Yoongi groaned. “You sound like Jungkook and God knows I don’t need another one of him.”

Yet again, Jimin felt his words gather in his throat at the demand and the way he looked at him like he had disgusted him in the worst possible way. It hurt his feelings. But Jimin stayed quiet, obeying Yoongi’s words. 

For the next few moments, Yoongi sipped at the rest of the purplish wine while Jimin stayed standing there with his hands pressed against the small of his back. With a slight pout to his lips that the mask hid, Jimin stood there awaiting further instruction. It was quiet. So quiet that the small gulps of wine Yoongi was drinking sounded ten times louder.

“Yoongi? Jimin?” Namjoon’s voice echoed throughout the first floor. 

“We’ll meet in the living room,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, downing the rest of the wine. 

“Go,” Yoongi ordered Jimin. He gestured toward the archway that led to the living room. Jimin almost gave a deep bow but suddenly remembered the Yoongi hated the formalities, so he gave a slight bow instead before hurrying off in the direction Yoongi motioned towards. 

As Jimin entered the contemporary decorated living room, Namjoon was also entering from another direction. He stopped upon seeing Namjoon and waited for the older to continue.

“Hyuna is on her way,” Namjoon said. Jimin raised an eyebrow and almost responded but realized that he was talking to Yoongi when the latter came walking into the living room with a newly filled glass of wine. 

“Alright,” Yoongi grunted.

“I also just got a phone call from Seokjin,” Namjoon said. The statement wasn’t filled with any type of malice or intimidation to cause Jimin any apprehension but Namjoon’s gaze definitely was as he slowly shifted his gaze from Yoongi to Jimin. 

“He and Jungkook are on their way at the moment. But he told me some things about you, Jimin. Saying that your performance and ability to think on your feet was close to impeccable. Jungkook even said that he could’ve died if it weren’t for the fact that you shot a man straight in the head before he could strangle Kook to death. That’s quite loyal of you for just your second week here.”

There it was again. Replaying in his mind again. The aiming of the gun, the pulling of the trigger, and the falling of the man’s body. It all happened so quickly yet his mind was slowing it all down. Jimin’s expression went stoic again as he visibly tensed all over, focusing everything he had on  _ not  _ vomiting again. His mind filled once again with the terrifying fact that he’d killed someone tonight. 

“That’s my favorite method of murder,” Yoongi sighed reminiscently as he took a seat on the velvety couch. “That was how I killed my first person, you know. A bullet in the head. Fantastic. I never thought you had that in you, Jimin.”

Yoongi actually looked impressed with Jimin, as did Namjoon. “Good job,” Namjoon marveled smoothly. Jimin’s brain was screaming at him to reply, say thank you and that he’d do it a million times if it meant saving Jungkook and being loyal to the 7 Point, but he couldn't. He just stood there with his mouth slightly agape. Tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, ready to say something but no words actually forming. 

“I see,” Namjoon chuckled after a few seconds of watching Jimin stand there motionlessly. “We all react like this after killing our first person. Commiting a murder is a lot to bear… I mean unless you’re Yoongi.” Namjoon’s voice had taken on an amused tone that Jimin found anything but humorous. But Yoongi obviously did as he broke out into a full on laugh. 

It was a nice laugh, Jimin thought. Would be better if they weren’t laughing at something so sinister though. “My first murder had personal meaning to me. I’m sure deep down, there was remorse. I mean, I’m human. But I didn’t feel it because I was too excited to get out of there.”

“Well since I’m  _ not _ Yoongi,” Namjoon shifted his attention to Jimin again. “I had a hard time accepting the fact that I had killed a person too. I was about… sixteen? Yes, sixteen. But my dad ensured me that I did the right thing. That the man I killed  _ deserved  _ what he got. You know what else helped me get over it?” Namjoon questioned. Jimin hadn’t even noticed that Namjoon was moving until he was right in front of him, looking down at him. 

“What?” Jimin croaked. The word was said so low that Jimin was surprised Namjoon heard it underneath the mask. 

“I got a  _ reward.  _ My dad gave me anything I wanted as a reward. And  _ now _ , you get a reward. What do you want, Jimin? Anything at all? It will be yours because you did so good tonight. You deserve this.”

Jimin slowly blinked, internalizing the praise. Thriving off of it in a way.

What did he want? He wanted to go home and be with his brothers. But what could he have right now? What would appease him for now?

“Sleep…” Jimin sighed. “I want sleep.”

  
  
  
  


Jaebum exited the bathroom of his apartment expecting to find Youngjae still peacefully sleeping but instead the rookie was sitting upright in his bed with bed hair, a content smile on his face and his eyes still halfway closed. Youngjae was a sight to behold and the post-sex glow to his skin only made Youngjae seem that much more irresistible to Jaebum. 

“You’re awake,” Jaebum chuckled, sleep still laced in his tone too, as he sauntered back to the bed to place kisses on Youngjae’s shoulders.

“I woke up literally five seconds ago,” Youngjae croaked. “But you weren’t next to me, so I was about to come looking for you.” 

Jaebum laughed and bit Youngjae’s neck playfully. “You’re clingy after sex, you know?” 

“Shut up.”

“It’s cute,” Jaebum reassured. Youngjae only groaned and weakly shrugged Jaebum away. “I love you,” Jaebum whispered to which the younger smiled. 

“I love you too.” Youngjae turned to lay a lingering kiss on his lover’s lips that quickly morphed into something more as Jaebum weaved his hand in Youngjae’s hair and the latter trailed a hand down Jaebum’s torso to grab at his already hardening erection.

“We’re gonna be late for work if you start this,” Jaebum warned softly against Youngjae’s lips, groaning softly when his hand wrapped around his cock, tugging it softly and thumbing the tip. 

“We can make it quick, right?” Youngjae inquired with a bite of his lip. But the lust in his tone was short lived as he attempted to climb on top of Jaebum but was met with a sudden aching in his back side.

“Shit,” Youngjae pouted, withdrawing his hand from Jaebum’s cock to massage his lower back. Jaebum could only laugh.

“Was Daddy to hard on you last night? You asked for it, sweetheart,” Jaebum chuckled, moving to sit upright again to help satisfy the pain in a way.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry about that,” Youngjae groaned. His cheeks were already flaring red in embarrassment. “We should have talked about that before I just started calling you Daddy and shit. I was just so caught up in the moment that I said whatever came to my mind.”

“It was new but it was hot, so don’t worry. I’m always up for trying new things,” Jaebum chuckled, applying a firm amount of pressure to Youngjae’s lower back making him hiss. “You wanna stay in bed today. I mean you can always tell your boss that you won’t be able to come in today. I’m sure he won’t mind,” Jaebum laughed, referring to himself.

Youngjae shot him a glare. “Well, no, _boss._ I’m a cop that deals with mafia business. I’ve seen some gruesome shit just like you have, I think I can handle a little soreness. I’ll be okay.” 

“You were literally crying after I pulled out last night,” Jaebum said without thinking. It only earned his a hard shove that almost had him flying off of the bed.

“Shut the hell up,” Youngjae growled, but Jaebum continued to laugh. 

While Youngjae was standing to get up out of the bed, it dawned on him that he was forgetting something. “Oh, Jaebum! You said you had something to tell me about my father last night,” Youngjae said, his voice wavering a bit from the dull ache that seemed to persist when he was standing. 

Jaebum’s smile diminished as he remembered. With a sigh, he stood  off of the bed too. Noticing his hesitation, Youngjae frowned. “Is it bad? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. But some files turned up on Jackson’s desk a few weeks ago. And there’s a lot that I need to tell you about. Your dad… he’s been hiding a lot and I think you deserve to know about it before anything happens to him. And I’m sure it will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you guys! 
> 
> Sorry this took so long. During finals week, I couldn't write or think at all. I just finished my first semester of college and it was incredibly challenging. Finals week was no joke. But hey! I got through it (barely). 
> 
> Be patient with me, guys. I hope all of you had a fantastic holiday because you deserve it!
> 
> You're amazing.
> 
> Love, Your Mochi


	13. Code Blue

“You really expect me to believe that?” Youngjae growled, already pacing the floor. “That’s utter bullshit! That can’t be true! You’re lying and it isn’t funny!”

“Why would I lie to you about this?” Jaebum asked calmly, his tone completely juxtaposing Youngjae’s, as he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. 

“This is my dad we’re talking about! I know he would do nothing like this. You’ve got this all wrong,” Youngjae insisted as he yanked on his uniform shirt. Buttoning up the shirt proved to be a difficult task as his hands trembled from the anger and his vision becoming more and more blurry from his desire to cry out of frustration. 

“There’s evidence,” Jaebum said. He was already in his uniform and actually ready to go, but Youngjae had been dragging this about all morning.

“Evidence that was just  _ mysteriously  _ dropped on Jackson’s desk! Did you even check to make sure that the evidence was accurate before you guys just started coming to random conclusions?” Youngjae turned to face Jaebum with a look on his face that was more pleading than angry. Despite his yelling, it was obvious to Jaebum that a large part of Youngjae was more hurt and hoping that what he just heard wasn’t actually true.

Jaebum sighed. “Yes. Mark checked it. All of it was accurate evidence, Youngjae. There’s pictures, financial records, database files and everything against him.” Jaebum’s voice was firm yet calm as he spoke to Youngjae. 

But Youngjae gave no response. He just latched onto the sides of bathroom sink and kept shaking his head in disbelief. Refusing to believe any of it. “This-This is some bullshit!” He repeated and gripped the ceramic tiles of the bathroom sink even harder and clenched his teeth.

“Babe-” Jaebum had taken a step towards Youngjae, wanting nothing more than to comfort him. 

“Go away.  _ Don’t _ come closer,” Youngjae gritted, his voice wavering.

Jaebum stopped. He could only imagine the anger coursing through his lover’s veins as his entire image of his father was shattered completely. 

To Youngjae, his father was no longer that amazing policeman that saved so many children from going down the wrong path. No. He wasn’t that  _ hero  _ anymore. Youngjae couldn’t help but feel nothing but brainwashed and betrayed. This man was the sole reason he wanted to be a cop. He wanted nothing more in life than to be like his father. 

Everything felt like a lie. 

When he thought about it, he felt a hundred times worse. Youngjae’s entire childhood was possibly paid for and funded by bribes to keep young kids in abusive homes. Youngjae couldn’t stomach it. 

“Youngjae-”

“Go wait in the car!” Youngjae hollered. “I- Please! Please. Just go warm up the car. It’s cold outside… so it probably needs to warm up. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Even while he talked, he never turned to look at Jaebum. Just stayed hunched over the bathroom sink with his eyes shut tightly. 

“You sure?” Jaebum whispered. 

“Didn’t I  _ just  _ say that I wanted you to go?” Youngjae snarled indignantly. 

Jaebum nodded once and turned around to gather all of his things in his bag that he usually carried to work. With that, Jaebum left the apartment to go warm up the car and wait for Youngjae like he’d asked.

  
  
  


Jinyoung had sent an email to their small team of seven to remind all of them about the mandatory meeting that he requested at 9 o’clock sharp. Having completely forgot about that, Jaebum was forced to drive as fast as the speed limit allowed to get to the station in time. It was unfortunate having Youngjae in the car who refused to even utter a word to him, but Jaebum couldn’t worry about that at the moment.

They arrived at the station five minutes before nine. 

“Is this meeting about my dad?” Youngjae spoke suddenly as Jaebum began to grab his bag from the back seat. When the question fell from Youngjae’s lips, Jaebum faltered a bit. Meeting his intense gaze, Jaebum sighed deeply.

“Yeah, it is,” Jaebum confirmed shortly.

“Oh.” Youngjae sighed. His body became rigid and stiff but when Jaebum pushed open the car door to get out, he did the same. He couldn’t afford to sit here and be consumed by his thoughts about what his father did. 

Because he was sure his father wasn’t. So why should he?

 

When Jaebum and Youngjae entered the meeting room, the rest of the team were already taking their seats at the wooden oval table. Jinyoung and Jackson were standing at the front though. Both of them giving a smile in relief when they seen Jaebum enter. That smile was short lived as they seen Youngjae with his lips pursed in anger as he all but stalked towards the table.

Yugyeom and BamBam (his name was literally so hard to pronounce that he himself came up with the nickname) chuckled to each other, seeing the little limp in Youngjae’s step from the previous night’s escapades between him and Jaebum. Their plan must’ve worked. They were instantly ready to tease the older about it. But similar to Jinyoung and Jackson’s reaction, their smiles dropped feeling the heavy, forlorn aura surrounding Youngjae. So for now, they’ll leave all of the banter to themselves. 

Jaebum sat in his usual chair at the end of the table while Youngjae took a seat between BamBam and Yugyeom, pretending not to see the questioning looks they were giving him in his peripheral. 

Jackson, being the annoying, childish prick he was, gave Jaebum a knowing look, even chuckling a bit. He could only snarl at Jackson, wanting nothing more than to punch the shit out of him. Jaebum was used to Jackson being an asshole that pressed all of his buttons but Jackson took it a bit far this time. This wasn’t a joke to Jaebum.

Having witnessed the entire silent altercation between the two of them, Mark cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “I think we should start the meeting. now”

“Agreed,” Jinyoung said shortly. “Now, I’m sure all of you know exactly what this meeting is being held for. Today, we’ll be giving you a few more details about what we know. Our goal is that by the end of this, we would have decided what to do about this situation.”

“Decide? What are we trying to decide?” Youngjae asked quickly. 

“You’ll see in a bit,” Jackson replied softly. “Anyway, like any other meeting we hold, these manilla folders are everything that we will be discussing today. It contains all of the evidence that has been presented to us and what we’ve found ourselves. You all can take one.”

Youngjae was reaching for one before Jackson could even finish saying that they could. Everyone definitely noticed but didn’t pay it any mind as they all reached for their own. They all knew this was Youngjae’s father they were talking about it. It was the elephant in the room. So fucking obvious but no one dared say a thing about it.

“Okay,” Jaebum said. His voice cut through the tension in the air. “Get started.”

“Right. Well, we’ll start with the basics of the matter,” Jinyoung said before passing it on to Jackson with a slight gesture.

“About a week ago, some files were placed on my desk anonymously. I looked through them to find some of Jae-Wook’s financial records from about ten years ago all the way up to recently. Both men and women. There were also some pictures of Jae-Wook meeting with some unidentified people. These photographs had a date on the back of each one of them, also dating back as far as ten years ago up to recent times. Jinyoung and I are sure that the dates matching up is intentional.” 

The entire time Jackson spoke, he avoided direct eye contact with Youngjae. Even though the latter was staring at him with an undeniable intensity to his gaze, Jackson, faltering just a bit every once in a while, refused to meet the stare. It wasn’t until Jackson mentioned the dates matching up on the pictures and financial records did Youngjae redirect his gaze down to the contents manilla folder. 

“The evidence was pointing towards Jae-Wook accepting bribes, correct?” Yugyeom asked with a furrow of his brow while looking at the financial records closely. Even though Jaebum had seen the files previously, he looked again.

“Yes,” Jinyoung confirmed. “The dates of these pictures being taken match up the dates of large sums of money being deposited in Jae-Wook’s account with about a one or two day difference. However…” Jinyoung paused for a second. Unlike Jackson, he wasn’t afraid to look Youngjae in the eye. Jinyoung wanted the rookie to know  _ exactly  _ what his father did and didn’t want Youngjae denying the obvious simply because this was his father. 

So Jinyoung continued to speak while looking in Youngjae’s direction, his gaze shifting to BamBam and Yugyeom occasionally as to not make Youngjae uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking to make him feel uneasy. Just wanted him to face the truth. Look the truth right in the eye and accept it. 

“Jackson and I definitely considered the fact that this evidence could be fake or tainted with for the intention of simply ruining Jae-Wook’s career so we called Mark. We asked him to go into the databases and look into his files and gather all of the information he can about the places he was dispatched to within a ten year period. Mark also did us a favor and recorded the cases where Jae-Wook was dispatched but nothing ever came of it. Let’s just say… we found that the evidence was true, but there was more to it than some bribes. You can flip pass the financial records and photos to find what I’m referring to.” 

Jaebum knew this was coming. This morning, he hadn’t told Youngjae the entirety of the situation. He’d completely left out the fact that Yoongi was involved and that there was a high possibility that his father is actually Min Yoongi’s target. He didn’t want to be the one to have to deliver that type of news. 

“... Min Yoongi?” It was BamBam’s voice that asked it. Only the three rookies were unaware of this. Mark, Jinyoung, Jaebum, and Jackson already knew. While BamBam and Yugyeom shared a shocked glance with one another, Youngjae’s gaze shot to Jaebum. Asking him if he knew about this all along. 

Jaebum gave an inaudible sigh as his answer.

“What is all of this saying?” Youngjae questioned shakily, his stare snapping to the two officers standing at the front of the room. Jinyoung had his arms folded with an expression that showed that he wasn’t bothered at all. Jackson seemed a bit concerned though. “Say something!”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Jinyoung scoffed. “It’s simple. These dates also correlate with the pictures and financial deposits. Your father has been accepting bribes from abusive families for  _ years.  _ Leaving innocent children in abusive homes for a couple hundred dollars. And yes, one of those kids was Min Yoongi. That poor boy called nine times in the span of a month and a half and nothing ever came of it.  _ He  _ is the reason Yoongi is who he is and-”

“Jinyoung, that’s enough,” Jaebum snapped. “I think he gets it.”

“No,” Youngjae said. “I  _ don’t  _ get it. But, it’s true.” 

At that, Jinyoung smirked. Excited that Youngjae easily accepted everything without refusing to believe it.

But what Jinyoung didn’t know was that Youngjae was most definitely having trouble accepting all of this. It wasn’t as simple as just accepting it. It was deeper than that. All of the thoughts he’d had about his father had been destroyed and replaced by some corrupted… son of a bitch. That completely disregards his job for money. This was not hhihs father.

Mark, always being the one that wanted to keep the peace, motioned to get Jackson and Jinyoung to continue. “You mentioned at the beginning of the meeting that there was something that we had to decide. You should discuss that.”

Jaebum couldn’t be more grateful to have Mark here. There’d be a disaster without him.

“Ah, yes,” Jackson began quickly, seemingly eager to get shift the conversation to something else before realizing that moving the conversation along only meant digging that hole that they were all in with Youngjae even deeper. “Well… before that, we have to discuss something else. We know that this information is from Yoongi. There’s no doubt about that fact.” 

Jaebum remembered the little note that Jinyoung had showed him a few days earlier. He really hoped that Jinyoung wouldn’t show that to the rookies and keep that hidden. For now at least. 

“This is personal to Yoongi,” Yugyeom began with a gentle yet firm voice. “He knows that Jae-Wook is the officer that left him there with his uncle. These pictures show that he’s been plotting against Jae-Wook for an incredibly long time. I mean, the first photo was taken about a month after Yoongi’s last call to the cops… To put it simply, Jae-Wook’s in danger.”

“Right,” Jinyoung said. “And that leads us to our  _ decision.  _ We have to choose whether or not we protect Jae-Wook or leave it all alone.”

“That’s easy, right? Just protect him?” BamBam said with an uneasy chuckle. But it was more like a question than a statement. Confusion etched into his tone rather than relief. 

“But it isn’t that easy,” Jaebum pitched in. “Because if we choose to protect Jae-Wook and put him into witness protection or have some other cops stand guard around his house, we still need to give reasoning for this. Meaning that we would have to present  _ all  _ of this evidence to our higher-ups to show them why Jae-Wook needs protection. It’ll end up with him in jail for a long time and his reputation completely tarnished but at least he’ll be safe and away from Yoongi.”

“ _ Or…  _ we act as if we don’t have any of this evidence at all… And we allow whatever may happen to Jae-Wook… happen.” By the sound of Jinyoung’s voice, it was obvious which choice he preferred. Jaebum wanted to jump in again but decided that this was Youngjae’s battle. Not his. 

“You mean allow Yoongi to  _ kill _ him?” BamBam squeaked. “Because we all know that’s what’s going to happen.” Youngjae just stared at Jackson and Jinyoung, his right eyelid twitching from the stress. 

“I mean at least he’ll still have his reputation, right? Well… that’s not even guaranteed,” Jinyoung scoffed in amusement. 

At that, Youngjae snapped. 

“What the hell is your problem!?” Youngjae yelled bringing his palms down as hard as he could onto the table as he stood up to stare right back at Jinyoung. And while everyone else in the room were a bit startled by the suddenness of it all- hell even Jaebum jumped a bit- Jinyoung stayed stationary. Returning Youngjae’s menacing glare with one just as threatening. 

“You think this shit is funny? This is my father we’re talking about. Have some goddamn respect!”

“I don’t give a fuck about respecting that man!” Jinyoung shot back with just as much fire and anger in his voice, if not more. “I’m from an abusive home, myself. But I was saved. Given a family that actually cared about me.  _ All  _ kids deserve that! I honestly don’t think this guy deserves anything but a fucking kick in the balls. He’s  _ shattered  _ the hopes of children that put their full trust in him! To save them! To help them! But he didn’t! He took bribes and turned the other way. That’s bullshit and I don’t care if he’s your father! He’s a son of a bitch! I don’t think he deserves anything less than  _ death.  _ It makes it all the more perfect that the person who will get to kill him is one of the children he’s wronged.” 

The room was silent. So Jinyoung did have a personal connection to this; he was from an abusive home too.

“Both of you,” Mark stood and spoke. “Just calm down… Since this is Youngjae’s father, we should give him the choice with all of this. Right?” Mark looked between the two of them, beckoning the both of them to agree to his agreement. 

Jinyoung just shrugged before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, he should do the honors of choosing what happens to the bastard… Ain’t like whatever he chooses will end good for his father.” His voice was maliciously sarcastic. 

Mark looked to Youngjae. “You can choose. If you want us to protect him, we’ll give this evidence to the higher-ups and they’ll put him in jail and will most definitely have his reputation dragged through hell and back but he’ll be safe. Or, we do nothing. It’s up to you.”

Jaebum knew even though Mark had given Youngjae ahold of the reigns on the entire situation, it must be a huge burden for Youngjae to carry. Deciding the fate of his father. It had to be weighing hard on him right now. So he promised himself that he’ll be here right here for Youngjae through it all. 

He really loved this rookie. 

“Okay,” Youngjae whispered.

Mark nodded and sat back down, looking to Jaebum to just end the meeting already. Jaebum couldn’t be happier to do so honestly. 

“Alright… Meeting dismissed.”

  
  
  
  
  


Yoongi was in the kitchen sitting at the island watching Jin cook and Namjoon attempt to help out- it was quite relaxing and amusing to watch if Yoongi was being honest- when their older sister, Hyuna, arrived at the penthouse.

Hyuna was four years older than Namjoon and if anyone had a strict childhood, it was her. Even more than Namjoon did and that was saying a lot. Bon-Hwa pushed Hyuna to farther feets than Namjoon because she was a woman and Bon-Hwa felt that she needed to do more to prove that she was worthy. Yoongi had watched her experience more than just a few mental breakdowns and panic attacks when they were younger.

Yoongi used to worry about her. A lot. But now here was no need. 

Hyuna was the reason Bon-Hwa hired women. After he’d seen just how powerful, intelligent, deligent Hyuna had become, he had a newfound respect for women in general. Realizing that with enough effort and determination, a woman could become just as strong as a man despite all of the physical shortcomings.

She was an incredibly strong woman that prefered to work in the shadows of the mafia than being public with her power. 

About 80% of the men associated with the 7 Point Syndicate had never even seen Hyuna. They knew about her though and, quite frankly, they never desired to see her in person anyway. Because when you  _ saw  _ Hyuna, you knew there was trouble somewhere. There were countless stories that circulated around the mafia about how  _ ruthless  _ Hyuna was when she had to been called from the shadows to deal with something. 

To put it simply, she was the Byun Asami of the 7 Point Syndicate. 

But for them, Hyuna was just their big sister that they didn’t get to see very often. Plus, Yoongi would be damned if he allowed himself to be afraid of his sister.

“Joon! Yoongi! Kook! Your beloved sister is here since you so  _ desperately  _ needed me,” she sang. Yoongi was sure she her egotistical tone was just her way of being annoying. “Meet me in the living room.”

Yoongi was the first to stand and make his way towards the living room after laughing at Seokjin pushing Namjoon out of the way and whispering, “Go. You’re too clumsy to be in the kitchen.”

“Tch. You’re so fucking mean to me, Jin,” he said, his voice borderline whiny.

“I love you. Now go.” 

When Yoongi entered the living room, Hyuna was already sitting on the couch with a cocky smile. Since it was literally one o’clock in the morning, she wasn’t wearing anything too flashy like she usually did when she came to visit or went anywhere else that wasn’t her home. Instead, she looked like she’d just got out of bed when Namjoon called her. Wearing some black sweatpants and an oversized shirt they were sure belonged to her boyfriend. That long hair of hers was tied into a half-assed bun and there were a few traces of acne on her cheeks.

But even looking like that, his sister still carried herself like she was dressed in a million dollar dress and an additional million dollar accessories. “I was called by my little brother so I got here as soon as possible. Oh, you have no idea how much I missed you.” 

“Of course, I missed you too,” Namjoon said, hugging her briefly and sitting on the loveseat across from her. Hyuna directed her gaze to Yoongi when he didn’t give her the reply she had been looking for. 

“What the hell are you looking at me like that for?” Yoongi questioned when he felt her gaze on him for a little bit longer than he’d like.

“I said I missed you,” she reiterated, her voice lower this time. Yoongi rolled his eyes at her childishness.

“I missed you too, Hyuna. Damn.” He muttered the last part loud enough for her to hear but she didn’t seem to care about his frustration as she smiled wide and pat the spot next to her on the couch with a sense of childlike excitement, telling him to come sit next to her.

“I’ll stand,” Yoongi said.

“You’ll sit,” she corrected, narrowing her eyes at him in warning.

“Fine.” 

Yoongi reminded himself a few times that he only listened so easily because he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. When Yoongi did sit down, Hyuna sighed. “So, where’s Kook?”

“Gone. The mission tonight went completely awry and Taehyung lost a lot of blood from a wound. He’s fine but he needs to go one of our physicians to get treated. Jungkook just  _ had  _ to follow,” Namjoon sighed in irritation, a slight tilt to his lips as he remembered trying to reason with Jungkook that he needed to stay there and wait for Hyuna. 

If it hadn’t been Seokjin intervening and just allowing Jungkook to go along with Taehyung, Namjoon probably would have exploded. Which was rare.

“Ah, love. What a beautiful thing,” Hyuna sighed whimsically. 

“No. Jungkook doesn’t need to be in love. Especially not with Taehyung,” Namjoon said.

“And you know exactly why,” Yoongi added. 

“Ugh, whatever. I’m not having this conversation with you two again. I’ll just say this, Jungkook is not a child anymore. He’s gonna have to handle the truth one day.”

Not waiting for Namjoon or Yoongi to respond, she quickly moved the conversation along with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, let’s move on from that,” Hyuna leaned forward and fixed her shirt that had been falling off her slender frame. “This code blue you called me about, I already thought about everything we should do while I was on the way here. You should call Seokjin and Hoseok down so they can listen to.”

Since he was literally in the next room over, Seokjin heard his name and softly announced that he would be right there and that he only needed to take the last pot off of the stove before he went anywhere.

Hoseok was supposedly upstairs helping Jimin into Yoongi’s bed. 

Of course, Yoongi put up a fight and openly expressed how much he didn’t want the stupid boy sleeping in his bed. But he had forgotten all about the fact that Jimin had that disease and needed to be in the cleanest environment possible. 

“If you feel like driving thirty fucking minutes to bring him home then feel free to fucking do so,” Seokjin snapped when he decided that he’d had enough of Yoongi’s useless whining about the situation. “Your room is probably the most clean right now so that’s where he’s going to be sleeping. He has CVID and he saved Taehyung and Jungkook’s asses tonight, the least you could do is lend him your bed for the night.”

Yeah, Yoongi had lost that argument so Jimin would be sleeping in his bed tonight whether Yoongi liked it or not.

Yoongi was already getting ready to stand and go get Hoseok from upstairs himself, but the sound of footsteps descending the stairs stopped him.

“Jimin is all set and in bed,” Hoseok announced. “I feel a bit bad for him. He’s in a pretty bad shock. He wouldn’t even talk that much.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Tonight was a lot for him though,” Seokjin said as he entered the living room from the kitchen. He smiled sweetly to Hyuna who blew Jin a quick kiss as a silent greeting before sitting on the love seat with Namjoon. Well,  _ on  _ Namjoon. 

“Had to be a lot if he asked for sleep of all things for a reward,” Yoongi scoffed. He shifted around on the couch to allow Hoseok some space to sit.

“Don’t break the boy before he could contribute anything. I heard he had a lot of potential,” Hyuna said seriously, alternating her gaze around to look at everyone. Starting with Namjoon who was sitting across from her and ending with Hoseok who was sitting next to her. 

“Of course,” they all agreed. 

With a gruff clearing of her throat, Hyuna’s tone shifted from a teasing seriousness to a tone that was stern and tyrannical. Almost like she ran this whole thing. But even Namjoon would admit with some reluctance that to a certain extent, that claim was true. 

“Like I was saying before, this has to be serious for a code blue and I already have some ideas about how to deal with it.”

“So listen closely,” she said. “First, out with the old and in with the new. Daddy’s gonna be over the empire for maybe the next five to ten years before he officially retires and leaves everything to you. So over the course of these five to ten years, we gradually get rid of Daddy’s men that keep challenging you and train some new, fresh recruits. We can’t just purge though, we have to do it slowly but surely so no one notices. Give those bitches that keep challenging you  _ one  _ warning. Keep a close eye on them and if something happens then… oops, they’re gone and replaced in an instant. Got that?”

“Keep a close eye on all of the men we suspect to be in any foul play and aren’t loyal to us and gradually get rid of them,” Namjoon reiterated. “Got it.”

“Don’t just go on a killing spree though,” Hyuna said. “We need this to go smoothly. So give em a warning and if they still choose not to be loyal, then that’s it. They die. Also, get Jungkook to talk to Daddy. We all know Jungkook’s his favorite and if Kook talks to him then he’ll be open to anything we do.”

They all knew this was true. Bon-Hwa loved Jungkook the most and it wasn’t just obvious because of how much their father spoiled the youngest but also because he quite often says it. Just so blatantly. 

_ “Kookie, my favorite son.”  _ he would say.

Yoongi and Namjoon chuckled.

“Okay, what else?” Jin said as he nodded. 

“Second one is for Yoongi.” Hyuna turned to look at Yoongi pointedly.

“What?” He answered. “What about me?”

“It’s about Jae-Wook. Get rid of him. Quickly. I know you wanted to watch his downfall and all that shit but he’s causing too much trouble. I want him  _ dead  _ in the next few days. Alright?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and sighed. He was looking forward to watching Jae-Wook’s world crumble around him while he got to laugh from the sidelines as Jae-Wook tried to fix it. But he could see what Hyuna was saying. Jae-Wook was causing too much fucking trouble for them and he just needed to be buried six feet under already.

“Alright,” he agreed without a fight. Hoseok gave a silent look at how easily Yoongi gave in. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Better start planning that perfect method of murder right now. I expect a nice, detailed story about exactly what you did to end that fucker’s life. It’s about time he paid for what he did to you,” Hyuna chuckled with an encouraging smile.

Hyuna nor anyone else in that living room besides Yoongi had any connection to Jae-Wook. Hell, half of them had never even seen the man in the first place. But if Jae-Wook hurt Yoongi in some way, then they all had a problem with him. 

“You know it.” Just hearing the smirk in Yoongi’s words made the other chuckle a bit. 

“That leads to the third and last point. You guys need to figure out who the hell Jae-Wook is working with and figure out if there are any others we need to worry about so we can deal with that immediately. We don’t need trouble on the inside and outside.” Hyuna paused for a moment seemingly allowing everything she said to just settle in everyone’s minds first before she made a startled sound like she had forgot to say something.

“Oh! I also want to meet Jimmy.”

“Who the hell is Jimmy?” Yoongi asked.

“She means Jimin,” Namjoon said. “And he’s upstairs. Should be sleeping so you’ll have to see him another time.”

“Aww,” she said with a light pout to her lips. It was odd to see her lips not glossed over and colored with some type of lipstick but it was refreshing too. Glancing up at the clock on the wall above the archway leading back into the kitchen, Hyuna sighed. “Well I’m tired. You guys remember those three things and we’ll get this code blue under control in no time. So for the next 22 hours or so, you guys get a day off. Because tomorrow… we’re gonna be  _ really  _ busy. So prepare. And prepare little Jimmy too.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon corrected.

“Jimmy,” Hyuna said again as she stood. “Come, come, Seokjin. Walk me to the door, please. You’re my favorite.”

Jin didn’t give it a second thought. He jumped from Namjoon’s lap so quickly that the latter was actually quite offended. And with that, Jin and Hyuna were ambling towards the front door, talking quietly amongst themselves. Probably just gossip. 

Because Yoongi knew how the two of them were. Hyuna and Seokjin alone, always meant gossip. 

Yoongi chuckled to himself and stood up to stretch out his muscles that had cramped up from sitting down for so long. That’s why Yoongi prefered to stand but, no, Hyuna just had to be… her. 

“Where you going?” Hoseok asked, standing from the couch too.

“To bed. I’m fucking tired.”

“Well make sure you-” Namjoon began, but Yoongi groaned before he could finish already knowing where this was going.

“I know, I know. You and Jin have been telling me that same shit all night.”

“Alright and if you don’t do it, you’re gonna face the consequences.”

Yoongi was feeling childish at the moment. Very, very childish. So he just ignored Namjoon and stomped away and purposefully stomped his way all the way up the stairs just so Namjoon could hear how much he didn’t care. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jimin woke up to the sound of a door closing and the overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies suddenly wafting into his nostrils. He grimaced at the smell and pushed his face into the cloth of the pillow case. He didn’t recognize it as his own bed and immediately moved to get out of the unfamiliar bed, but then his thoughts finally caught up.

This was Yoongi’s bed. Yoongi’s room. And if he remembers correctly, these pajamas he was wearing were also for Yoongi. It made Jimin shiver in discontent. 

As soon as Jimin had uttered the fact that for his reward, he only wanted sleep, Namjoon quickly called Hoseok downstairs, after he was presumably done cleaning up Taehyung’s wounds, to take Jimin upstairs. Jimin was so out of it that he couldn’t even recall anything that he did. The one and only thing he does remember is when he was ushered into a soft bed while Hoseok whispered the words, “all of this is for Yoongi. According to Jin, it’s most likely the cleanest room.” When Jimin was situated in bed and snuggled under the thick, freshly washed blankets, he was lulled into the deep sleep that he truly needed. 

Jimin groaned quietly into the pillow at the disgusting smell that smells heavily of bleach. What the hell were they cleaning? And why the hell were they using so much? His mind instantly drifted to the possibility of cleaning up blood. Human blood. A dead body. 

The smell and thought alone made Jimin’s stomach turn dangerously. Luckily he didn’t have his pollution mask on since Hoseok insisted he removed it, so if he did feel the need to vomit, he’d just run to the nearby bathroom without having to worry about the mask blocking everything.

Jimin began shifting around in the bed to get more comfortable in order to successfully will the thoughts of blood and a dead body out of his mind. He ended up in the same position he usually slept in: the fetal position. Half of his face covered by the blankets as he curled into himself, thighs pressed against his chest and head touching his knees.

Looking forward, he realized that Yoongi had a large window in his room too. It was overlooking the skyline of Seoul with the full moon high in the sky. As he stared out of it while he laid here in this unfamiliar, large bed that didn’t belong to him, he was reminded of his last day at home. In his own bed. 

And just like that night, Jimin got the urge to cry. 

But his thoughts were interrupted when the door opened once again and light from the other side of the door spilled into the dark room. Since Jimin was lying with his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who it was or what they were doing but he could definitely hear their voices. 

“Be careful. Don’t wake him,” Seokjin’s voice hissed quietly as there was a light, high pitched sound, sounding a lot like a spoon hitting a bowl ever so softly. 

“I got this.” That was Yoongi’s voice. Jimin decided that while Yoongi’s voice was pleasant and had the potential to be quite calming, he did not like Yoongi’s voice. That voice had only spit insults at him all night and did nothing more than hurt his feelings. 

“God damn, Gi. How much disinfectant did you spray? I told you to spray a bit on the surfaces and doorknobs, not drown your room in it. He might still get sick from all of these fucking fumes.” 

The cleaning supplies was for him? Were they really cleaning because of Jimin’s supposed ‘disease?’

“You were the one who kept bitching about how he has CVID and shit and how I need to get rid of most of the germs,” Yoongi snapped back, his voice a little louder than Seokjin’s whisper. “So there you go, no more germs.”

“Whatever. Just wake him up and make him eat some of that food. He needs it.” And with that, the door closed.

Jimin wondered if Yoongi had left with Jin but that question was answered when the bedside lamp was clicked on all of a sudden. He quickly closed his eyes at the close shuffling that was happening just behind him. Soon after, the shuffling halted and there were a few heavy handed taps on his shoulder.

“Hey, wake up. Eat this food,” Yoongi said gruffly. 

Naturally, Jimin moved to stretch out his muscles that had become stiff over time and to emphasize the fact that Jimin was ‘sleep’ just seconds before. “Food?” Jimin croaked, his voice rough from its disuse, while he turned to lie on his back.

“You’ve been stuck in your house for almost your entire life, but I’m sure you know what food is.” That sarcasm in Yoongi’s voice was heavy. 

Jimin maneuvered into a sitting position, the black and grey patterned blankets falling to only cover his legs now, and muttered, “Yes, I do know what food is.” Jimin was still rubbing at his eyes when there was something heavy placed in his lap. 

“Well eat. I suggest you eat all of it because if you don’t Jin will throw a fit,” Yoongi said. While Jimin looked down at the delicious looking meal- he hadn’t had japchae in a while- he noticed that there were two bowls and two sets of chopsticks. 

“This is for me,” Yoongi said, more to himself than Jimin, before taking one of the bowls and chopstick sets for himself. Jimin grunted and continued to just look down at the steaming bowl of japchae.

Of course it wasn’t poisoned or anything like that, it was obvious that the 7 Point needed Jimin, but Jimin couldn’t help but feel a bit delighted that Seokjin took the time to cook him something to eat. He hadn’t eaten all day. Not only did Seokjin cook for him, but he ensured that the room was clean and disinfected for him. Even if it was just because they needed him to stay healthy and content so he could stay loyal to them (Jimin was well aware of this), it was polite of Jin. To Jimin, while the cleaning was more for this fake disease of his, this dinner was something of a gift. 

Jimin felt a little bit of warmth in his chest.

The left side of the bed shifting was what caught Jimin’s attention. Looking over, his eyes widened just a bit as Yoongi sat on the bed and propped his legs up on the mattress as he focused on picking up a few vegetables with his chopsticks. 

This  _ was  _ Yoongi’s bed and room so it wasn’t much of a surprise that Yoongi would lay there. But it surprised Jimin that Yoongi would even want to lie in his bed while he was laying right next to him. There was a sofa and comfy chair situated in front of the window and Yoongi could easily sit there. But he sat here.

Jimin didn’t pay it any mind and picked up his own chopsticks to begin eating. But he almost dropped the damn chopsticks when Yoongi’s suddenly spoke up, most likely seeing how much time Jimin had spent just looking at the food. 

“If you’re worried about germs because of that disease you have, CVID, right? Whatever. Anyway, you shouldn’t be worried because Jin got these dishes fresh from the dishwasher for you.” 

Yoongi’s voice was a bit reassuring. Jimin gave a tight lipped smile. “Thanks.”

“Thank him, not me,” Yoongi said, deflecting the praise almost robotically. “It’s all because of him that I took literally the hottest shower in my life, brushed my teeth for about thirty fucking minutes, put on the newest pair of pajamas that I have, and disinfected the hell out of my room. All because he didn’t want you to get sick. That jackass.” 

Jimin couldn’t help but grin at how annoyed Yoongi sounded. This annoyance in his tone wasn’t the same as earlier when he was insulting him though. This was a more endearing and friendly annoyance. 

“Eat,” Yoongi demanded. And just like that, the light familiarity in his voice was gone.

Because he was talking to Jimin, it was replaced by a forcefulness that only succeeded in intimidating Jimin and made him want to leave the room. 

But he didn’t. He wordlessly obeyed like a good recruit would. 

They began eating in silence and for the first few small bites of japchae, Jimin didn’t even taste it. 

He didn’t like this. Not one bit. Jimin hated it. Hated feeling like he wasn't human around Yoongi. Like he wasn’t worth it. Like he was trash. Like he wasn’t doing a good job. He wanted to do good. 

Without even thinking first, just working off of pure instinct and emotion, Jimin swallowed his bite of food and cleared his throat to catch Yoongi’s attention. And even when he did, Jimin didn’t look to Yoongi, just kept looking at the japchae that was cooling by the second. 

“I’m quite surprised you’d actually follow his direction and do something like that for me. Especially since you practically fucking hate me and think of me as trash. I would think you would  _ want  _ me to die by some simple disease. It would be easy for you, right?” 

Jimin knew it was stupid of him to say. For him to just provoke Yoongi like that simply because his feelings were hurt. It could possibly get him killed. 

But he deserved death, right? He’d killed someone else so he guessed that it was only right for him to suffer the same fate. 

With a silent but deep sigh, Jimin continued to eat. In his peripheral, he watched Yoongi chew and swallow  _ slowly _ before turning to look at him. 

It wasn’t until Jimin swallowed the vegetables he was eating that Yoongi reached over to grab Jimin; pressing his index finger and thumb hard into either side of Jimin’s face to turn his face towards him. The sudden action made Jimin shriek as he looked into Yoongi’s eyes that were so angrily staring back at him.

“If I hated you…” The pressure on Jimin’s jawbone increased as Yoongi pressed harder and continued to talk. “You would have a bullet in your forehead by now. If I saw you as useless trash, your corpse would be in a dumpster somewhere.” 

“S-sorry.” Jimin’s voice was small.

“Good.” When Yoongi said that, the pressure on Jimin’s jaw persisted for a few more seconds, almost like a reminder, a reminder for what would happen to Jimin if he talked that way to him again, before it let up and those same fingers that were so forcibly and dominantly pressing into his face just seconds ago were picking up the discarded chopsticks so Yoongi could continue eating. 

Jimin felt the tears prickle and burn the rims of his eyes but he refused to let them fall as he forced himself to say something else. “S-so you don’t hate me?”

“I already answered that. Use your common sense.” 

“Do you?” Jimin persisted. 

“No!” Yoongi snapped. Jimin watched his hands grip the sides of the bowl and wondered briefly if Yoongi would pitch it against the wall. But luckily he didn’t. “I don’t hate you. You just annoy me with how…  _ naive  _ and  _ weak  _ you seem to be. You have too much potential to act so fucking weak, Jimin. I hate it.”

Jimin forgot all about the food and just looked to Yoongi, mulling over his words a few times. Potential? Potential… Yoongi saw something in him. Something that wasn’t weakness and innocence. 

Now that Jimin was thinking about it, it seemed that all of them here believed that Jimin had something… Potential as Yoongi put it. At home, with his mom, dad, Baekhyun, and Jongin. Jimin was nothing more than the youngest son that needed their protection and love to stay afloat. At home, they saw potential in Jimin but not enough. No matter what, at home, he would always be under his brothers. 

But here… he could be anything. Be an equal.

“Will you help me get stronger then…” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi turned his head to return Jimin’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. The previous anger in his eyes was gone. “You’re already strong. You just gotta see it as much as we do. Then maybe you won’t be as annoying.” 

If Jimin was seeing correctly, there was just the smallest hint of a grin there on his lips. Even from the small bit of praise, Jimin was ready to combust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I hope you're all doing great and enjoyed this chapter! I enjoyed writing it, mostly because of Hyuna's character and her personality.   
> The next chapter should be up soon with a look at the Lotus Syndicate and what they're doing and the next steps the 7 Point Syndicate will take after Hyuna's plan.  
> I love you!
> 
> -Mochi


	14. Pleasant

The next time Jimin woke up, it was to the sound of soft, even breaths coming from behind him. It didn’t take him a minute to process what was going on like last time, he immediately knew it was Yoongi.

He doesn’t exactly remember falling asleep next to Yoongi. Only remembered eating the rest of the japchae- recalling Yoongi’s warning that Jin wouldn’t be that forgiving if he didn’t eat it all- and Yoongi slipping out of the room to put the dishes into the kitchen. After that, he recalls nothing. Not Yoongi returning or him falling back to sleep.

Jimin slowly shifted to lie on his back, squinting at the sunlight boring into the room from the open curtains. He smiled a bit. When he was at home, Jimin would always scold himself for leaving the curtains to his floor-to-ceiling window open. Even though it was irritating and stressing for his eyes, Jimin couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

His moving must of triggered Yoongi to do the same because soon after his stirring, Yoongi was shifting and moaning gently into the pillows.

Jimin turned his head to lookover at Yoongi’s sleeping form. Unlike Jimin who slept in the fetal position, Yoongi slept on his stomach with his hands stuffed firmly under the fluffed pillow he was sleeping on. Most of the older’s face was buried into the pillow and Jimin vaguely wondered if Yoongi could properly breath with his face in the pillow like that.

He guessed that he could, judging by the way his back was steadily rising and falling in tandem with the sound of his gentle breaths. After looking at him for a while, Jimin realized that Yoongi’s black strands of hair that was strewn over the pillow and over most of the expanse of his face would move ever so slightly with every breath he took.

Since Yoongi slept with no shirt on, Jimin could see very easily that he was very pale compared to Jimin’s skin tone, and he himself wasn’t even that tanned. Yoongi was just _that_ pale that his skin almost resembled the pristine white of the sheets.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the side table behind Yoongi, it read eleven in the morning. Yoongi probably hadn’t gone to sleep until about four this morning so he was sure the older wouldn’t be waking up unless he absolutely had to.

Jimin sat up slowly to stretch his limbs and not wake Yoongi in the process. About to move to get out of the bed, Jimin looked at Yoongi again. It was truly bothering Jimin that most of Yoongi’s face was buried in the pillow. He couldn’t expel the thought from his mind that Yoongi could possibly smother himself.

Yeah, it was a silly possibility. And it was a pretty stupid assumption that anyone would smother themselves in their sleep. It was _obvious_ that Yoongi could breathe perfectly fine. But Jimin gave into the pestering urge to tilt his head a bit.

He hesitantly placed one of his small hands on the back of Yoongi’s head and the other cradled Yoongi’s chin. His hair was soft, just as soft as the skin on his face. Jimin reveled in it.

On the count of three to himself, Jimin swiftly raised Yoongi’s head and turned it slightly so now Yoongi’s cheek was pressed into the pillow. He resembled a baby now. The sight made Jimin chuckle, no matter how much he tried to hold it back, it slipped past his lips anyway.

At the sound of the giggle and Jimin moving his head, Yoongi made a soft sound and opened his eyes in the slightest way possible to glare at Jimin. His glare held no real malice because Yoongi was still half-asleep. Well mostly asleep.

“Sorry,” Jimin muttered.

Yoongi frowned and grunted before his eyes closed and he presumably slipped right back into a sleeping state. His face was still smushed against the pillow though.

Jimin moved to get out of bed without disturbing Yoongi again, now content that Yoongi could sleep with no worries of suffocation.

His first destination was the bathroom connected to the room where he took a good look at himself in the mirror. For the first time in two weeks, Jimin actually looked like he got some sleep. He felt like he did too.

No bags under his eyes. No miserable aura. No redness to his eyes because of his desire to cry. No heaviness or bad taste in his mouth from the anxiousness. It was relieving to have just a day of being… okay.

Like he always did, Jimin looked over the innocence of his features. The innocence in his personality. He knew he liked to say that this was all a facade. But the real question lingering the back of his mind was… is this actually a facade?

The Jimin in reality and the Jimin in the mirror both knew that it wasn’t. He was still the same boy that cried himself to sleep on more than one occasion and the same boy that almost cried because Yoongi told him to ‘shut up’ last night.

Jimin sighed and shook his head to shake the thoughts away along with it.

Leaving the bathroom, Jimin crossed the room quietly, the only sound being the pitter patter of his footsteps, as he left the room.

The layout of the penthouse was nothing like the townhouse he’d grew up in and he didn’t expect it to. But he’d had the slightest bit of hope that after being in a massive penthouse for literally all of his life, he would be prepared for being in such a equally as massive penthouse.

But it only made Jimin feel that much more apprehensive about the fact as he stepped out into the hallway. He knew that homes like these held many secrets because his own home did too. Secrets he were aware of, secrets he’d made, and secrets he had no idea about.

He knew that this penthouse was the same. Must have been. Whether that be secret rooms, secret files, or just secrets lingering in the same space where they’d been made secrets. Just knowing that made Jimin lightheaded.

Unlike the downstairs layout, the second floor of the penthouse didn’t have much of an open concept. There were several white doors along the cream colored walls. The floors were cold and ceramic and the hallway held two high hanging, crystal chandeliers. One on the right end of the hallway and one towards the left end.

Since, it was late morning, the windows also at both ends of the hallway provided some natural light. This floor of the penthouse gave a much warmer feeling than the contemporary, professional feeling of the first floor.

Wrapping his arms loosely around his torso- a defense mechanism of sorts- Jimin slowly started walking to the right end of the hallway. He didn’t know exactly where he was going or where he was even trying to get to, Jimin just wanted to… look.

Jimin walked past two doors that were completely closed so he left them alone. He walked past one room where the door was slightly cracked and the incessant sound of fingers tapping on the keys of a computer was spilling out into the hallway Taking a quick peek without making any noise, Jimin noticed that the room was a personal office and that it was Hoseok sitting in a cushioned chair at a desk. His brows knitted together as he stared at the computer screen with the utmost amount of focus, his fingers flying across the keyboards while every once in a while he’d stop his typing to move the mouse around to click and drag a few things. Then he’d go back to typing again.

He decided not to bother him. It was obvious that the older was busy.

Another door only led to a neatly decorated, seemingly rarely used, bathroom while the last open door was the study. The library was a better word to describe it. He looked around briefly. From what Jimin could see, two of the room’s walls were covered by bookshelves and stacked file cabinets. There was a computer with three monitors set up towards the back of the room. It was almost identical to the one at the office in his house.

That was what caught Jimin’s attention. The sight of the computer made his fingers itch in a way. Itch with a desire to just search through every part of that computer and this room because there had to be something that was most definitely of valuable use in here. Something that he could send back to his brothers so they could get an upper hand on the 7 Point. It was the study after all.

While he wanted to stay and look around for something, anything, he knew immediately that it was a horrible idea. For one, since the door was left open, even if just by the slightest, Jimin knew that it meant someone had been in there recently. The last thing he needed now was for them to question his loyalty to them by catching him searching curiously for who knows what in a room they hadn’t invited him into.

He’d have to wait. Wait until they all trusted Jimin enough to allow him to roam around the house without coming to look for him.

So even with a bit of reluctance, Jimin stored the information that this room was the study and vowed to use it later when he got the perfect chance before continuing to walk towards the rounded staircase that led downstairs.

Jimin was always light on his feet, making absolutely no sound when he walked around. He was sure that was just a habit that he’d picked up on his own after being alone for so long. When Baekhyun and Jongin began to leave the house more and more often, leaving Jimin alone a lot more than usual, Jimin had came to hate the echoing sounds of his own footsteps around the house as he searched for some sort of comfort or cure to his loneliness.

Almost subconsciously, Jimin mastered the art of being able to maneuver around in silence. So he nor anyone else would have to hear the lonely echoes of a lonely boy’s footsteps in his own home.

Getting to the bottom of the staircase, Jimin heard shuffling and quiet laughing in what he was sure he remembered to be the kitchen. Moving closer, he recognized the voices as Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s.

“I’m hungry as hell.” It was Seokjin’s voice and also his domestic laugh that followed.

“You’re _always_ hungry, Jin,” Namjoon’s voice drawled. “You’re gonna be all plump and chubby one day.”

“Even with a little bit more skin on me, I’ll still be the most handsome, sexiest person you know.”

There was a quiet chuckle and then a low “Of course you will” that followed. Namjoon’s tone was so fond and even without seeing his face for himself, Jimin knew that Namjoon was probably staring at Jin with a glint in his eyes right now.

A short silence came soon after, only sounds of a knife rhythmically chopping up something, before Seokjin spoke again. “Am I really gaining weight?”

Namjoon snorted like he was expecting that question the entire time. “No, you aren’t. I’m just playing around. Matter of fact you’re so amazingly beautiful to me that I find it hard to sleep without looking at your face at least five times before bed. It’s a bedtime ritual of mine.”

The chopping sounds at stopped and was replaced by Jin’s laughing. “Oh really?”

“Yup.”

“Keep it up, Joonie, and we’ll be having round three a lot earlier than expected. Right here in this kitchen.” His tone had dropped into something sultry and suggestive.

“Think you can take another round so soon, sweetheart? You were the one who asked for a break.”

Suddenly Jimin felt like he should be covering his ears and running away back to the room. It was like a child hearing their parents talk dirty to one another. But Jimin wasn’t disgusted, just… curious in a way that he really didn’t want to think about right now. It just made him hot.

Before the conversation could go any further, Jimin entered, purposefully taking a few heavy steps so they could hear. Both of them turned to look Jimin’s way as Namjoon unraveled his arms from around Seokjin’s waist who was cutting up a small amount of vegetables for himself.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Namjoon questioned walking over to Jimin who was still just standing there in the archway. He noticed a bit too late that he still had his arms wrapped around his torso like a little child but Namjoon didn’t seem to be bothered by the display of innocence.

Yoongi probably would have scolded and insulted him for it.

“I’m fine,” Jimin said. “And thank you for food last night, Seokjin.”

“No problem,” Jin shrugged never taking his attention from the ingredients he was cutting up.

Namjoon grabbed Jimin’s forearm gently and led him over to the bar stools. “You aren’t wearing your mask. You can get sick,” Jin said.

“I can afford to remove my mask in certain environments,” Jimin reassured, following Namjoon to the island that served as a wall divider too. Jimin sat on the bar stool next to Namjoon and looked to him expectantly.

“Let’s talk about your plan for the day. We have one free day and Jin and I took the liberty to plan it for you.” Almost like Namjoon was talking to him, Seokjin threw the rest of the ingredients into a pot and rushed over to the bar Namjoon and Jimin were sitting at to lean in curiously.

“First, you’re going to train with Hoseok for a few hours. Later, Yoongi and Jungkook will take you to get fitted for some new clothes.”

“I want to go along,” Jin added.

“You’re supposed to be gathering information on Jae-Wook’s whereabouts today,” Namjoon said with a raised brow.

“I told Sehun to take care of it. I wanted to help Jimin get fitted today,” Jin responded like it was obvious that he was going to just pass the job to someone else. “Plus, if I track that son of a bitch down now, I doubt I would be able to refrain from the desire to send someone to slit his throat.”

Namjoon looked over Seokjin’s face for a second longer before sighing. “Fine. Jin will go with you instead of Jungkook. And-”

“C-Can I go home for a little while, Namjoon. All I need is about an hour… I just want to be in my home.” Jimin really needed to send an update to his brothers. There was too much that he had to ask them and without that information, Jimin could possibly make a mistake that fucked up their entire plan.

The plan that they possibly didn’t even tell him about.

Because if the Lotus Syndicate _is_ involved with the threats that the 7 Point Syndicate is receiving from the outside, this could turn out one of two ways. Either the potential threat to the 7 Point will allow Jimin more opportunities to gain trust and gain access to some important files. Or the files would be even more protected and Jimin would be able to gain access to absolutely nothing at all without the high risk of getting caught.

However, he still needed to figure out their plan. His brothers and him had to be on the same page if this mission was going to go smoothly.

Namjoon seemed to be a little hesitant as he started thinking about it but Jin quickly made the decision for him. “Of course. Everyone needs to be able to recuperate in the place they’re most comfortable.”

At that, Namjoon started nodding in agreement to Jin’s statement. “Yeah. You can go home for a while until Hoseok feels like he’s up for training. Clear your head for tomorrow and the days to come.”

Jimin looked to Namjoon with wide eyes, knowing that this persona of himself was one that Namjoon and Jin didn’t mind. Namjoon and Jin were the most valuable people in this house. They held the most power. If playing the innocent, pliable boy would get them to trust Jimin, then by all means Jimin will play into their hands.

“Can you drop me off at my home? Please.”

Seokjin chuckled softly when Namjoon only sighed, ran a hand through his messy hair and bit at this bottom lip. Jimin wondered if that was something of a habit of Namjoon’s when he was considering something.

“Just say yes,” Jin scoffed, seeing Namjoon try so hard not to give in. “You know you want to.”

“Fine. I’ll drive you. But I have things I need to finish up here so the sooner I get you home, the sooner I get back here.”

Jimin smiled before standing to bow deeply. A sign of intense respect. Both Jin and Namjoon looked a bit more surprised than anything at the gesture but didn’t say anything of it.  “Thank you. I’ll go get my things.”

  
  
  


Namjoon pulled up in front of the small condo and turned to look at Jimin who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat picking with his fingers. They would jerk and twitch every once in a while and Namjoon was sure Jimin didn’t even notice that he did that so often.

“Yoongi and Jin should be here in a few hours to pick you,” Namjoon said catching Jimin’s attention. “Here take this.”

Namjoon reached into the backseat to dig into a bag that he brought along and pulled out a rectangular box. Jimin’s soft facial features twisted in confusion and his lips tilted downward into a pout under his anti pollution mask. “What’s this?” Jimin uttered taking the box into his own hands.

“A phone. We need to be able to contact you when you aren’t at the penthouse so there you go. Don’t do anything stupid with it,” Namjoon cautioned. The warning reminded Jimin of a parent reprimanding their teenager.

“I won’t. Thank you.” Namjoon gave Jimin something of a grin and unlocked the doors of the car, a sign telling Jimin that he was dismissed and free to leave. And he did.

As soon as Jimin shut the car door, the engine of Namjoon’s sleek, black Bentley revved up again, and he was speeding down the road before Jimin made it to the porch of the house. With the phone box in his left hand, Jimin used his right hand to fish the keys to the house out of his pocket.

When he finally did get in, the first thing Jimin did was toss the box onto the stupid, ugly sofa and snatch the anti pollution mask off of his face. He was getting used to it as time went on but preferred it to be off.

He knew he only had a few hours here so Jimin knew he should get straight to work if he wanted to use the most of his time. He swiftly moved around the small expanse of the house to the kitchen to get the small key from under the coffee maker for the file cabinet before taking just a few steps to get to his office.

Jimin went straight for the file cabinet to get the cheap phone- that he had to remember to dispose of when he was done using it- but stopped when he reached it to retrieve it. Should he call them?

Was any of the stuff they were about to discuss safe to be discussed over the phone? Especially when Jimin was such a big concern of 7 Point at the moment. Hoseok was working diligently on his computer this morning and most likely was still sitting right there in the chair, doing the same thing. Jimin had enough knowledge about technology and computers to know that there were programs that can track people. Easily. Every step they take, every call, every email. There was no doubt Jimin would be under a magnifying glass for the next few weeks or so.

Jimin shook his head. He closed and locked the file cabinet and stood there to think for a second.

He couldn’t call. He couldn’t email. But he could send a letter.

Jimin thought it over a few times and decided that it was his best bet. So he took a seat in the chair and searched the room for a pen and paper. Luckily it was easily found in the top drawer of the desk where his multi-monitor computer sat untouched.

He could write the letter in an encrypted code but Jongin and Baekhyun would take too long to decipher it. Minseok was the one who participated in creating the encryption so he could read it easily. But this message was for his brothers so he’d write it in English so Jongin- and possibly Baekhyun if he had been practicing his English lately- could read the letter without too high of a risk of someone else reading it.

 

**_Jongin and Baekhyun,_ **

**_I did not want to risk someone tracking the email or hacking our phone call so I had to write this letter instead. I’ve been working closely with everyone and I am doing fine myself. However, I’ve come to learn that there are several more problems within the 7 Point Syndicate than we initially thought. Not only are there outside threats but also inside threats. I’m sure they have a plan to deal with the inside threats but the outside threats are still a mystery to them. Is the Lotus behind this? I overheard talk of an agreement between the Lotus and the 7 Point while here. Did Jongin terminate this truce? If so, why? I’m asking you to tell me if you’ve made any moves against the 7 Point Syndicate yet and anything else that you’ve done while I’ve been here. I need to know if order to make the right moves that ensure the missions success. To reply to me, send me an encrypted code to my personal laptop. Minseok should know how to do this. Specify that it is the Lotus’ own version of encryption so if anyone else besides me does manage to gain access to the message, they won’t be able to read it. I hope all is well over there. Reply soon._ **

**_Jimin_ **

 

Reading over the letter a few times, Jimin folded it and sealed it within an envelope, which he luckily found in another drawer of his desk, marking it with all of the correct information.

Jimin looked at the clock, knowing he still had a substantial amount of time here alone because not even an hour had passed since he’s been dropped off, but it was becoming a compulsion of his since he’s been here. Checking the time constantly until he’s nerves were eased for the time being before it returned and he was checking the time again.

He stood from the chair and left the office. While Jimin was about to head for the door with the letter in hand, he decided he should change first. He had to redress in those dreaded black leather pants and thin shirt from last night because he couldn’t just take Yoongi’s pajamas. Jimin entered his room and headed for the closet.

Once these clothes were off, Jimin never wanted to see them again. So he’d thrown them into the trash can.

  
  
  


Baekhyun and Jongin agreed to allow Jongdae to work under Minseok for the time being until they found a department that they felt would fit Jongdae’s skills in combat the most. Either assassination or someone else’s right hand man.

But for now, Jongdae was kept busy by doing tasks for Minseok. At the moment, he was advised to organize the most recent updates from the businesses that the Lotus Syndicate owned in their own folders so they are easy to find them when the reports and data were needed.

Minseok said he’d be right back, but that was about twenty minutes ago and Jongdae was done with the simple, elementary task in just half of that time. Sitting there in Minseok’s cluttered ass office was getting annoying. Jongdae knew about the fact that hackers or computer experts in particular were never really tidy about their work area. Taking on the idea of an “organized clutter.” Meaning that only Minseok knew where everything was even though his desk was junky as if all he did was store his old files there instead of throwing them away. When Jongdae was about to get up and go look for the older man himself, something caught his eye. A picture.

Jongdae had been sitting at a small desk tucked away towards the back of office, behind Minseok’s own desk. So when he stood, ready to make his way towards the door, Jongdae easily caught a glimpse of a picture of a family. It wasn’t framed or anything, just lying there on top of some old files.

He walked over and picked up the picture himself. He not only recognized Minseok- albeit a little younger- but someone else.

“Hoseok?” Jongdae muttered. He brought the picture closer to his face and widened his eyes almost like the face in the picture would change if he did so. But it didn’t. It was Minseok standing next to Hoseok, his arm thrown around Hobi as if they were best friends or brothers.

Minseok, the main hacker of the Lotus Syndicate. And Hoseok, the main hacker of the 7 Point Syndicate. It didn’t make any sense.

Feeling an apprehensive feeling rising in his chest, Jongdae trusted his instinct and put the photo down back where he’d got it from. Moving from behind the desk, the door opened revealing Minseok with an insulated cup in his hand. He took a quick sip before looking to Jongdae.

“Yes, I’m done. Anything else I should do?” Jongdae questioned, keeping a keen eye on Minseok. Did he ever mention anything about siblings?

“Not really. You wanna come do some combat training. Junmyeon needs a partner and I don’t feel like it,” Minseok chuckled under his breath. Jongdae was a bit thrown off by the lightness in his voice but nodded anyway.

“Sure. I’d be up for that,” Jongdae said, losing the professional tone to his voice and taking up a casual one. It made Minseok smirk.

“Let’s go then. Get your stuff and follow me.”

With that picture still in the forefront of his mind, Jongdae grinned and hurriedly grabbing his coat and phone before following the older man.

  
  


Yoongi and Seokjin arrived at the house Jimin was residing in at about four o’clock. During the time between when Jimin dropped the letter off at the postal office and now, Jimin had showered, napped, and set up that phone Namjoon and had given him before getting dressed. He didn’t know if he should dress professionally so he decided on semi professional hoping that would be enough for them.

Jimin secured his anti-pollution mask back on his face before leaving and locking the door behind him. They were driving the same car that Namjoon was driving earlier. Upon seeing Jimin nearing the car, Seokjin lowered the car window to give Jimin a cute, titled, close lipped smile.

When Jimin did slide into the backseat of the car, he expected Yoongi not to even acknowledge his presence. But surprisingly he did, turning around to look over Jimin’s clothing. “How you feeling?”

“I’m fine. It was nice to be home for a little while,” Jimin said. He was proud of himself that his slight stutter had gone away. Even if just for the time being.

“Good. Because we have a busy week ahead of us. But today should be much calmer because we’re getting you _new_ clothes,” Jin sang as he pulled off down the road again.

“Taehyung, the fashion guru, will be so disappointed that he missed a trip to go shopping for clothes,” Yoongi teased. Jimin could see him looking down at his phone while smirking.

“He’d only recommend Gucci anyway. Gucci this, Gucci that. If Taehyung dies, we have to dress him head to toe in Gucci, okay,” Jin laughed.

“Don’t forget the casket too,” Yoongi added. Jimin watched the two go back and forth with their jokes and chuckled. Sometimes Jimin was so caught up in the fact that this was a mission that he forgot that Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, and the rest of them were all human.

It was relieving.

When Seokjin heard Jimin laugh, he’d look up at the rearview mirror to look at the way his eyes crescented into thin lines. It was nice to see the boy actually laugh instead of being so instilled with fear.

Maybe these were the first signs that Jimin was actually beginning to trust them. It was something that Seokjin was honestly very glad to see.

  
  


“Which one?” Seokjin asked Jimin, reaching out to touch at one of the hundreds of different fabrics lining the walls of this shop. They were currently in the process of getting a few suits for Jimin for future instances.

Jimin considered it a plus that Jin and Yoongi would be allowing Jimin to come along with them to whatever event they thought he needed such fancy suits for.

“Um… that one,” Jimin said.

“Pinstripe, okay,” Jin said under his breath. He waved over the woman that had been helping out since they’d entered. “He wants the pinstripe.”

“Yes, sir,” the petite woman that said her name was Nayeon when they first walked in said, grabbing for the roll of fabric to tuck under her arm.

Even though Jimin came from wealth and power also, he never really needed to have the knowledge of fabric names and which ones were considered more exquisite than others. He rarely ever went anywhere so there was no need for any of it.

So whenever Jimin even eyed an ugly fabric- well in Jin’s opinion it was ugly- Seokjin would raise an eyebrow at him and Yoongi would chuckle from somewhere behind them at how “cheap” the fabric was.

“Pick another one,” Jin told him. “You need one more.”

“Um, okay… This one.”

“Houndstooth,” Jin supplied before turning to the woman. “I want one suit made with the pinstripe and the other with the houndstooth. I need two more suits, solid-colored and in the colors…” Jin trailed off as he looked over to Jimin closely. Examining him.

It admittedly made Jimin a bit uncomfortable.

“One in white and the other in grey. Black wouldn’t look nice with his skin,” Yoongi said. Seokjin nodded slightly before fully agreeing.

“You’re right. The other two should be in white and grey. Got it?”

“Yes, Mr. Seokjin,” Nayeon said before carrying the two roles of fabric towards a room in the back.

“We should get you a few shirts, ties, and slacks too, right?” Jin said gently placing a hand on the small of Jimin’s back to lead him around the store. “I would think you need some.”

“Not really,” Jimin uttered.

“Well we’ll get a few then.”

“You’re lying to yourself, Jin. You say that everytime,” Yoongi butted in with a roll of his eyes.

“I will this time though!” Jin whined. “I can do this.”

 

Okay, he couldn’t do it. But Jin definitely didn’t seem to care. The look on Yoongi’s face was just one of unamusement at the situation itself.

By the time they left the store, they were carrying three bags full of button up shirts, ties, and slacks all in Jimin’s size. This was excluding the suits themselves because Jin was getting them customly made for Jimin.

He felt so spoiled in just a few hours.

“Where else are we going, Gi?” Jin asked. They were all making their way back towards the car that they had parked behind the shop for some reason.

“I don’t think he needs more casual clothes. That innocent look fits him,” Yoongi said as if he wasn’t right there.

“What do you mean? I thought you hated how weak I looked?” Jimin said quickly. A wave of confusion hit him completely as Yoongi’s words just so sharply contrasted with his words last night. It angered him a bit too. Perhaps Yoongi didn’t remember his words, but Jimin definitely did. Mostly because they hurt his feelings.

A bit taken aback by Jimin’s sudden outburst, no matter how soft or muffled it was, it was still an outburst, Yoongi and Jin looked to the youngest.

“What the hell did you say to him, Yoongi?” Jin growled, opening the trunk of the car to throw the bags into the car.

“Nothing,” Yoongi defended before looking to Jimin. “Look, I only said that I didn’t like how weak you carry yourself. That doesn’t include your innocence because I doubt that will ever change. You have strength. This innocence is different, it’s a part of your personality. Weakness is not. It’s a flaw that can be fixed.”

“He has a point,” Jin said, rounding the car to get in. Jimin and Yoongi followed suit and continued to conversation in the car. “Strength is a combination of things. Logic, intellect, being quick witted, and several other things makes strength. You just lack confidence. You have like no confidence, Jimin.”

Jimin didn’t say anything after that. Just buckled his seatbelt and listened to the soft tunes of the music as he thought over their words. He continued to think them over until Yoongi began speaking again.

“I want to help you gain confidence, Jimin” Yoongi declared. Jimin turned to look at Yoongi who was also turned to look back at Jimin. “Gaining confidence takes practice and experience until you do feel confident. So tomorrow, I want to come with me.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Kidnap and kill Jae-Wook.”

  


Youngjae was sitting in his bed in his apartment all alone. Head pounding, body and mind exhausted about what to do with this information. Jaebum had called several times but Youngjae didn’t want to talk to him right now.

He needed to be alone with his thoughts. Needed to think. No matter how much he wanted to coddled, he needed to be an adult and make this choice, no matter how hard it was for him.

In the end, he made a choice. Both possibilities hurt him, but one was better than the other, even if by the slightest bit.

Youngjae picked up his phone from the side table and wiped the tears blurring his vision from his eyes. Hesitantly, Youngjae sent a message to Mark.

**_Mark_ **

_It would be best if you send the information to the higher ups._

_At least my dad will be safe from Yoongi_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This chapter is a lot more of a filler leading up into the next chapters to come. Fillers also serve to show character development and drop a few hints for the plot coming up. I like looking at the development of the 7 Point Syndicate with Jimin. It sweet.  
> I'm so excited for the rest of this and I'm glad all of that are reading are enjoying it. Well I hope you are at least, heh. It makes me happy to that you like it! My heart.  
> Okay, okay. I hope you're having a great day, week, month, and year. Lol. Just be happy! I'll see you next time! 
> 
> Love,  
> Mochi


	15. Alone

Youngjae couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t stand being  _ alone  _ in his apartment anymore. He wanted someone. He wanted Jaebum. Without even thinking it through, Youngjae was on his feet, not bothering to change out of his pajamas and grabbing for his car keys to drive to Jaebum’s apartment.

When Youngjae had gotten into his car and even started the ignition, he’d stopped. He looked at the digital clock on the radio. It was 1 in the morning. Of course Jaebum wouldn’t care if Youngjae showed up, he knew that. And the drive wasn’t that long either. That wasn’t what was stopping him though. It was his pride. He wanted to handle it by himself. Like a man. The man his father raised him to be. But his father had proven to be nothing of a man. He was  _ not  _ a man.  _ Not  _ his father. 

And if this man raised Youngjae to be who he was today… then who was Youngjae? 

Youngjae didn’t even know he was crying again until a teardrop fell from his cheeks and onto the skin of his forearm. The vague feeling was enough to bring Youngjae from his thoughts, and before he allowed himself to get consumed by his pride again, he was backing out of the parking space in front of his apartment complex. 

When he made it Jaebum’s apartment door, he knocked a few times. Honestly, Youngjae didn’t even expect Jaebum to answer. He was probably asleep. 

Youngjae was ready to just go back to his car and drive himself back to his own apartment, scolding himself for being such a child about this situation. 

The first series of knocks went unanswered, so Youngjae decided to try again. Just one more time. Youngjae waited there, shivering in the freezing cold of early December. He brought his numbing hands to his mouth to blow his breath on them, hoping they’d gain a bit of their feeling back. Yet still, he waited. 

He was about to turn and run back to his car when the doorknob began to wiggle before it was pulled open just a bit for Jaebum to peek at who it was and so he didn’t let any of the cold air from outside into his cozy, warm apartment.

“Jaebum?” Youngjae muttered.

“Youngjae?” The door opened wider now, revealing Jaebum who hadn’t been sleeping but was actually taking a shower, judging by his freshly wet hair and body, and the towel around his lower half. “Get in here. Why are you here in the cold in the middle of the night with no coat?”

Jaebum was no longer worried about the cold as he reached out to pull Youngjae into the apartment. The warmth and familiarity of the apartment was instant relief for Youngjae who continued to tremble as he walked further into the apartment. 

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Youngjae answered truthfully. “I needed you.”

Closing and locking the door, Jaebum rushed over to Youngjae and instantly hugged him tightly. “I’m here,” Jaebum sighed.

Youngjae adjusted the tilt of his head a bit so he could sniff his boyfriend’s freshly washed hair. Usually, Youngjae hated the feeling of wet hair. He would either wrap his hair in a towel or blow dry it when he was done washing it, but Jaebum’s wet hair against his face was refreshing and reassuring in a way. It was keeping him grounded. 

“How about I make you that tea. The same tea you made for me when I was having trouble sleeping,” Jaebum suggested, pulling away just a bit to place kisses all over his face. Youngjae smiled at remembering the first night he invited Jaebum over.

“After you put on some type of clothing,” Youngjae breathed. “It’s really tempting not drop to my knees right now.” 

“Then let me go put on some clothes then.”

Despite how tempting that offer sounded to Jaebum, he knew what Youngjae was doing. He knew the rookie was only trying to deflect his feelings. Suppress his feelings using sex and Jaebum didn’t want that. Nor did he want to encourage that. If they were going to have sex, Jaebum would be the one pleasing.

Pulling away from Youngjae fully now, Jaebum smirked and began making his way towards his room. Youngjae laughed shortly and walked into the kitchen to gather all of the necessary ingredients and the kettle for the tea from the overhead cabinets. He turned the knob for cold water on the sink and let the water flow into the kettle. And even though he was smiling just a bit, Youngjae was hurting. It hurt so bad.

The burning in his chest was still raging on despite being in the presence of the man he loved. It was so strong that he just couldn’t ignore it. Yet Youngjae didn’t even know where the fire was stemming from. He just wanted to break down and cry. It was eating him from the inside out. At least that’s what it felt like.

“Okay, baby. I’m-” Jaebum came running back into the kitchen with a pair of sweatpants and shirt Youngjae had given him. But he stopped when he saw Youngjae crying while the kettle was overflowing with water in the sink. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Youngjae looked to him in disbelief, quickly shutting off the water. “What’re you talking about?”

“You’re crying. I’m asking what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” 

Youngjae tried to ignore Jaebum’s sympathetic, pleading stare. Tried distracting himself with pouring some of the excess water out of the kettle and placing it on the stove. But no matter how much he moved around, he still  _ hurts.  _ And Jaebum knew that. He knew just how  _ weak  _ Youngjae is. Just how  _ lost  _ he is. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jaebum could just tell what he  _ did  _ just by looking at his face _.  _ What  _ he  _ decided.

“I told Mark to send the information to the higher ups,” Youngjae whispered, looking down at the countertops that he was gripping for stability. For his sanity. “I-I don’t know if it was the right thing to do… I’m scared.”

Jaebum was behind him in seconds, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing kisses to the skin of Youngjae’s neck. “The right thing isn’t decided by you, Jae. Your father had the choice to do the right thing and he didn’t. Don’t take this burden on yourself,” he whispered into his ear. 

“I can’t help but feel horrible that I was raised by that man. Influenced by him. I had the utmost respect for my father!” Youngjae was getting louder and louder. The sadness, the pain turning into nothing but anger. “I trusted him! I wanted to be a cop because of him! But all of that was a lie! He’s hurt children! He’s why Yoongi is so mad at the world! All of those kids are probably hurting! And for what!? Money!? Money that was probably used to feed my brother and  _ me _ . I hate this!” 

By the time he was done yelling, he was slamming his fist repeatedly onto the countertops. Jaebum let him yell. Wanted him to yell and get all of it out. So he just listened and held him. Providing him the warmth of another body.  
“It hurts.” Youngjae’s voice faltered and shattered before his composure followed and shattered to. Everything in Youngjae’s life was shattering. 

As Youngjae cried loudly, Jaebum sighed and held him tighter. “I’m sorry” was all Jaebum could say. 

They stayed that way until the kettle was screaming. The two of them made the tea in silence. But it wasn’t a heavy, awkward, painful silence. It was a pleasant, soft, reassuring silence. They didn’t talk again until they were sitting in Jaebum’s bed sipping at hot tea and talking about Jaebum’s uneventful day off. 

“I think I should go visit my dad in a day or two… Let him know what I did,” Youngjae uttered, sipping at his tea. “Mark said the information should take a few days to actually get to higher ups and for them to make a decision and all. But I think I should tell him before they show up… to take him away because of what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything. He did, baby,” Jaebum reassured, squeezing Youngjae’s thigh. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I should tell him by myself,” Youngjae said. He set his cup aside on the bedside table and brought his legs up to his chest and curled into himself. Jaebum let him but stayed right by his side.

That night, Jaebum asked Youngjae to allow him to please him. To take the pain away by replacing it with pleasure. Even if it was temporary pleasure. Of course, Youngjae couldn’t say no to the soft request. 

Jaebum indulged in Youngjae in the best way he could think of: slow, passionate, and filled with gentle declarations of love between them. There’s no roleplay or dirty talking, just them connected as one. Youngjae’s legs wrapped tightly around Jaebum’s waist as the older drives into him. 

When Youngjae finally does come undone, he’s shaking in pleasure, tears streaming down his face as he murmured continuous “thank yous” to Jaebum. Jaebum struggled to clean the two of them off since Youngjae was so far into his own mind that he refused to let Jaebum go. But eventually, he did and Youngjae’s cries quieted down. They fell asleep in each other’s arms as soon as the sun began to rise. 

  
  
  


Jungkook showed up at Jimin’s little house really early in the morning. The sun wasn’t even fully in the sky, only a dim light spilling in through the curtains. When Jimin did open his eyes, he glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes past 4 a.m. 

But Jungkook didn’t wake Jimin with a knock on the door or even with a phone call. No, it was with a few taps to his shoulder. 

It freaked Jimin out. How the hell did he even get in here? But, Jimin pretended not to notice that blatant fact that Jungkook most likely broke into his house before he dragged himself out of the cold yet oddly comforting bed. 

Usually, Jimin loathed being alone in a house. He’d been alone all of his life and he’s grown to hate it. Before, he couldn’t see how anyone would enjoy being alone. Baekhyun and Jongin loved being alone. Especially after a long day, his two older brothers would close their bedroom doors and never come out until late the next morning. Leaving Jimin alone yet again, even when he had been looking forward to their return the entire time. 

But now he realized why. After being involved in the center of this mafia, this business, Jimin looked forward to coming home. Lying in this bed, his thoughts keeping him company, until he fell asleep.

Jimin sat up on the edge of his mattress and stretched out his limbs with a tired groan. “Why are you here?” He also wanted to ask, “ _ How _ did you get in here?” but he left that part out.

“Yoongi wants you to get to the penthouse as soon as possible,” Jungkook said. While Jimin stood on exhausted legs, Jungkook continued to wander around the small room. Most likely criticizing the lack of decoration or life in here. 

“Is there something wrong?” Jimin asked, suddenly a lot more awake than before but not fully awake. 

“I don’t know. He just asked me to come get you so here I am.” Jungkook plopped down onto the bed next to Jimin, who was still rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to wake himself up for the long day to come.

“Thank you, Jimin,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin stopped rubbing at his face. He turned to look at Jungkook with raised eyebrows in questioning. “For what?”

“You saved me. You saved Taehyung.” Jungkook wasn’t looking Jimin’s way, but Jimin could easily see the pink dusting the surface of his cheeks. Probably was a little embarrassed that he was actually saying thank you. It didn’t take an expert to know that Jungkook was quite the spoiled child of the family so expressing gratitude probably wasn’t the easiest thing for him. 

Jimin swallowed hard. “It’s what I’m supposed to do,” he whispered.

“No. I honestly thought you would miss or you wouldn’t shoot the man at all. Because even though you had that mask on, I knew you were scared. But you did. That’s loyalty at its finest. You deserve a reward.”

“Oh… I already received one.”

“What was it?” 

“S-sleep.” 

Jungkook gave him a look. It wasn’t one of irritation or frustration. But instead, it was a bit teasing. Kook tried to keep a stoic expression but wound up breaking into a full blown, boyish smile anyway. “Seriously? Sleep?” He laughed. 

Jimin nodded, his own smile crawling onto the plains of his face. “Yeah. I was tired so I slept in Yoongi’s bed.”

“That’s hardly a reward,” Jungkook drawled, throwing himself back onto the mattress so that he was lying on his back looking up at Jimin who was still sitting next to him. “You know what? I’m going to give you a real reward tonight. A ‘Jungkook’ type of reward, okay?”

“I don’t know if I want to experience a  _ Jungkook  _ type of reward,” Jimin chuckled. Jungkook feigned a pained expression and placed a hand to his chest. 

“I’m offended, Jiminie. But, trust me, you’ll love it because you’re a brother of the 7 Point Syndicate. Everyone loves rewards.” Without warning, Jungkook began rolling off of the bed. Judging by the hard thump when his body hit the floor, Jimin was sure Jungkook had fell pretty hard. Jimin didn’t even get a chance to check on him because Jungkook was immediately on his feet again and making his way to the closet.

“Let’s get you some clothes to wear for the day.”

Jimin wasn’t used to this side of Jungkook. The carefree, young, boyish side of him. It was actually a bit of a shock to Jimin to know that Jungkook even had this side to him. But he had to remember that Jungkook was only eighteen and actually recently turned eighteen too. That poker face Jungkook usually wore was most likely just a side of him he’d configured for business. 

Jimin wondered if this was the real Jungkook. The boy who became flustered while trying to express his thanks. The boy who rolled out of bed and onto the floor to get out of bed instead of standing on his own two feet. 

It most likely was. So with a relieved grin, Jimin stood from the bed and walked to the bathroom while vaguely listening to Jungkook muttering his thoughts about Jimin’s sense of style. 

  
  
  
  
  


Jungkook couldn’t drive. No scratch that. He obviously could drive. He was just horrible at it. Jimin was gripping the handle on the door for stability everytime Jungkook whipped the steering wheel to make a turn onto an intersecting street. Not to mention that since it was literally 5 in the morning, there was little traffic on some of the usually busy roads, and Jungkook took that as his free pass to go full speed down the road.

Jimin had never been behind the wheel in his life, but he was sure that this wasn’t how the rules of the road actually worked. 

“We’re almost to the hotel,” Jungkook supplied. Jimin was ever-grateful that they’d gotten here without an accident. “When we go in, there’s something really important that you need to do. It’s a special job that only you can do, Jimin.”

Jungkook’s tone was low and serious. Jimin’s stomach flipped at the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

“W-what is it?” Jimin struggled to swallow the feeling of anxiety that was quickly crawling its way up his throat.

Jungkook glanced at him briefly a few times, letting the silence linger for a second. “Tell Seokjin happy birthday.” And in just a second, that serious frown and look in his eyes dissipated and was replaced with a toothy, crescent-eyed smile. Jimin let out a deep exhale that he’d been holding in. 

“You should’ve seen your eyes!” Jungkook wailed, punching at the steering wheel. “I can’t even see your face with that mask on but you can tell how scared you were!”

Jimin rolled his eyes and folded his across his chest. He didn’t think that his near death from anxiousness was humorous. But he did think Jungkook’s laughing was endearing. “Not funny,” Jimin muttered.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook said, his laugh still taking time to dwindle. “But anyway, you need to tell Jin happy birthday when you see him. He’ll be pissed if you don’t.” Jungkook whipped the wheel so vigorously that Jimin’s body jerked the opposite way from the force as Kook turned into the underground parking lot of the hotel. Jungkook didn’t even look phased by it. 

“I will,” Jimin said, regaining his composure. Jimin was never driving with Jungkook again. 

When they got into the penthouse, Jimin was shocked to find that everyone was moving around so early in the morning. The first thing that caught Jimin’s attention was Jin descending the stairs in a pink, silken kimono. Jungkook pinched his arm before moving away like he never did it. 

At first, Jimin thought it was just Jungkook playing a little childish game but then he realized that it was a reminder. “Oh! Happy birthday, Seokjin,” Jimin said, giving a full bow to Jin.

“Thank you, Jimin.” Jin gave a sweet smile and ruffled his hair sweetly. “Tell me the truth Jimin. Did Jungkook tell you to do the full bow too?” Jin asked before narrowing his eyes at Jungkook and cocking an eyebrow. “Do you really think I’m that pretentious?”

“I didn’t tell him to do that!” Jungkook defended. It’s obvious that Jin doesn’t believe him. 

“After all I do for you, Kookie. It’s my birthday and you lie to my face. You get no food today,” Jin decided before striding his way into the living room. Jungkook was close behind him, pleading that he didn’t tell Jimin to do that. Leaving Jimin alone, standing in front of the front door.

Not knowing what else to do, Jimin decided he should probably go find Yoongi since that was why he was here in the first place. He tentatively made his way up the rounded staircase and to the second floor. 

It isn’t until he’s standing at one end of the hallway that he realized that he didn’t really know where Yoongi could be and didn’t want to go peeking his head into all of the doors looking for him. But what other choice does he have.

Jimin has only been on this floor one time so he only knows where Yoongi’s room, the study, and the office are. He walked past a room where the door was slightly cracked. There was a familiar voice coming from the room. Listening a little closer, it was Namjoon on the phone with someone. 

“I don’t know shit about cake, just make it taste good. I don’t need Jin mad about a nasty ass cake… Vanilla, I hate chocolate cake… Who the hell would want that on their cake? I swear, people need help-” 

Jimin held back a chuckle. Namjoon must have been discussing Jin’s birthday cake. Choosing not to interrupt the man and his seemingly urgent discussion about cake, Jimin continued to move down the hallway. He came across another door that was fully closed but there were voices in there too. It sounded like the voices were becoming angrier and more frustrated as they continued to talk.

Jimin frowned and knocked shortly, wondering if it was maybe Hoseok and Yoongi.

“Come in,” the voice huffed. He turned the knob and pushed the door open carefully. He peeked his head in to see that it was actually Hoseok and Taehyung having a heated argument. Taehyung was lying in bed while Hoseok was standing next to him with his arms folded. Both looked surprised to see him.

“Oh, it’s Jimin. Thank God,” Hoseok groaned, motioning for Jimin to come into the room. Jimin obeyed wordlessly and closed the door behind him. “Can you stay in here with Taehyung and make sure he doesn’t move to get out of bed.” Hoseok asked, beginning to round the bed and get to the door. 

Taehyung made a move to sit up, but Hoseok growled and slapped one of his feet in warning. “Lie  _ down,  _ Tae. You’re not fully recovered.”

Jimin had to agree. While Taehyung looked a lot better than a few days ago, he still had a few stray bruises on his face and was bandaged in several places. 

“I’m fine. I had the transfusion yesterday,” Taehyung retorted.

“Yesterday was literally a few hours ago. Now lay down while I go get the disinfectant and get you something to eat.” Hoseok was growing angrier and angrier at Taehyung defiance, so Jimin cleared his throat. 

“Don’t fight,” Jimin said. “I’ll stay here with Taehyung.” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes and gave up on his attempts to get out of bed while Hoseok smiled and rushed towards the door before Taehyung changed his mind again. When Hobi passed Jimin, Hoseok placed a hand on his shoulder as a silent thank you. 

It wasn’t until the door closed behind Hoseok that Jimin moved to the bed. “How are you feeling?” Jimin asked softly, sitting.

“Fine. Hoseok’s treating me like I’ve never been injured before. I may be eighteen but I’m about to turn nineteen in less than a month. That’s pretty mature, right!”

Jimin chuckled and shook his head. “You’re almost there.”

Catching onto Jimin’s banter, Taehyung grinned and slowly moved around to get in a more comfortable position in bed. “You’re just as young as I am.”

“I’m already nineteen.”

Taehyung made a disappointed face. He winced and hissed in pain as he settled into a position, but Jimin pretended not to notice. Between Jungkook and Taehyung, Jimin didn’t know who had a bigger ego… Probably, Taehyung.

“You are a lifesaver, you know. I think everyone knows how much potential you have now after that night. Kook and I would’ve died without you.” Taehyung placed a hand on top of Jimin’s and squeezed it. 

“I killed someone,” Jimin said absentmindedly. “I don’t think I deserve the praise you’re giving me.”

“You do. I think that’s why Yoongi wants you to come with him today.” 

Now Jimin remembered why he was here. He was supposed to help Yoongi and Hoseok kidnap Jae-Wook today. Jimin’s breathing became labored as he tried not to think about it. Told himself again and again that today would go perfectly fine. Told himself to forget that Yoongi said “kidnap and kill, Jaewook” and not just kidnap.

“I like having you around, you know. We all do. Especially Jin. Jungkook’s going to get jealous one day.”

Jimin chuckled. “I’m flattered,” Jimin exhaled under his mask. A warmth filled his chest and he suddenly wanted to… smother himself in someone’s chest. Finding it a little harder to breathe now, Jimin reached to loosen his anti pollution mask.

When the door opened again, Taehyung removed his hand from Jimin’s. He expected it to be Hoseok so was shocked when he heard Yoongi’s voice instead.

“I didn’t know you were here, Jimin,” Yoongi said. Turning around to face the door, Jimin seen that it was both Hoseok and Yoongi coming in. Hoseok was holding a few bottles, a towel, and some cotton balls. Yoongi just had a few pieces of bread in a napkin for Taehyung to eat.

“Jungkook brought me here this morning,” Jimin said. He maneuvered around the bed to allow Hoseok the space to sit and tend to Taehyung’s left side. Yoongi kneeled on the other side of the bed and handed Taehyung the bread. 

“Surprised you made it here alive,” Hoseok scoffed. “Kookie drives like a maniac.”

“He does,” Jimin said without thinking. Hoseok and Taehyung both looked a bit taken aback by Jimin agreeing. They were actually used to Jimin only replying when he was spoken to. Yoongi, however, didn’t even raise a finger at that.

Hoseok raised Taehyung’s shirt and removed the large gauze covering it. “We’re going to stop covering it with gauze, okay?” Hoseok informed. 

“What if it gets infected?” Taehyung said, a tiny hint of panic in his voice.

“It won’t. It’s been healing for the last few days. Covering it too much isn’t good for the healing process.” Hoseok opened a bottle holding a clear substance and poured a bit of a cotton ball and began dabbing at the wound.

Taehyung quickly busied himself with the bread Yoongi was holding so he wasn’t looking at Hoseok tend to the wound. “You’re such a baby,” Yoongi laughed, immediately noticing Taehyung’s panic. 

“Will I be able to be there when finally get Jae-Wook?” Taehyung asked, ignoring Yoongi’s comment. “I think I deserve it, right?” Yoongi wasn’t able to respond before Hoseok gave a loud  _ tsk.  _

“I told you that you need rest for the next few days,” Hoseok sighed. 

“I’ll be okay for a few hours.” 

“We already agreed that if you wanted to go to that party tonight, then you would rest all day,” Hoseok said in a tone that matched one of a mother. 

Taehyung began to give a loud, frustrated groan but instead shrieked when Hoseok dabbed the cotton ball on a certain sensitive spot. Hobi apologized briefly but from where Jimin was sitting, he had seen that Hoseok actually did it on purpose.

Probably fed up with the fighting between the two, Yoongi stood up and told Jimin to follow him. “I’m going to set up everything for later,” Yoongi informed before leaving with Jimin right on his heels. 

  
  
  
  


For the rest of the day, Jimin listened to Jin talk about his birthday nonstop, helped Namjoon with his cake order, helped Jungkook sneak into his own room to see Taehyung, got scolded by Hobi for doing that, and then got ready for the kidnapping tonight. So basically, Jimin got a first hand taste of what all of them were like when they weren’t doing business. And honestly for the first time in forever, Jimin felt like he was truly part of something. 

So when the sun began to fall and the moon rose to take its place in the sky for the night, Jimin left with Jungkook and Yoongi. Jimin was yet again sitting in the backseat of a car on his way to do a mission that was supposed to go smoothly. He just hoped that this time, it actually went according to plan. 

Taehyung begged to go instead, but Yoongi profoundly refused the begging and sided with Hoseok. 

“Are you sure we shouldn’t have just called someone else?” Jungkook said from the passenger seat of the car. “I know you usually don’t do active missions and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about me, Kook. We all got each other’s back so we should be fine.”

There it was again. That nonchalant reassurance that ‘everything would be fine.’ Last time Jimin heard that, Jungkook almost was strangled to death and Taehyung got injured enough to need a blood transfusion.

Jimin threw his head back to recline against the cushion of the seat and closed his eyes, the conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi becoming distant. For now, he had to focus on calming his racing thoughts and rid himself of the itching under his skin.

 

When the car stopped and the ignition was turned off, Jimin opened his eyes and looked around at their surrounding. It looked like they were parked on the side of the road somewhere. On the edge of a neighborhood full of pretty decent looking homes. From what he could see in the dark, these homes were for people belonging to the upper-middle class. 

“Where are we?” Jimin croaked. 

“Just outside of Jae-Wook’s neighborhood. We can’t just pull up at his house. It’d be too obvious,” Jungkook said.

“You know what to do right, Kook?”

“Active missions are  _ my  _ specialty. Of course, I know what to do. You’re the one who’s in charge of maintaining our import and export. I think I should be asking you if you know what to do.” Jungkook’s voice was full of mockery. Even in the dark, Jimin knew Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, whatever. Just get out. You too, Jimin.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll come when you tell me if he’s there and when you actually get into the house. I got a bit more to do really quick.” 

Jungkook already pushed open the car door and was moving to get out, so Jimin hurried to follow, nodding his head quickly in confirmation that he’d heard Yoongi. Shutting the door behind him, Jimin followed Jungkook down the road of homes. Neither of them rushed, they both just ambled down the street as if they belonged there. While Jimin’s heart was beating so hard that he was sure that Jungkook could hear it, Jungkook just walked ahead of Jimin, humming a small tune. 

They walked a few blocks and when they reached a certain house, Jungkook double checked the address on the gate and opened it like it was no big deal. But that was because, to Jungkook, this  _ wasn’t  _ a big deal. He’s probably done this a hundred times before, so Jungkook knew that the number one rule when it came to doing missions was that you don’t act suspicious. 

He’d definitely mastered that part, Jimin thought. 

“His car isn’t here, but it could be in the garage for all we know. We’re going through the back,” Jungkook muttered. The concrete path to the front of the house was lined with greenery, small amounts of grass growing from the cracks. The night was eerily silent so the tall grass and buses shifted and crunched loudly beneath Jungkook’s and Jimin’s feet as they made their way towards the back of the large home. Every little sound they made caused Jimin’s heart to race just that much faster. 

“How are you going to get in?” Jimin whispered.

“Pick the lock, of course.”

Jimin’s mind flitted back to this morning when Jungkook just mysteriously popped up in his house. That must have been how. 

Jungkook pulled something small and silver from his pocket that Jimin couldn’t see because of the lack of proper lighting, but he knew it was something to pick the lock. He probably carried everywhere he went. 

“Listen carefully. We’re going to go into the house and check if he’s here. Based off of his work schedule, he should be getting off in a bit, but we could never be too sure. We call Yoongi when we get in here, and check the house for anything related to who he’s been working with until he gets here.”

“What about his wife? Does he have one?”

“They’re separated for now.” Jungkook said with a light chuckle. “I may or may not have copied some of the evidence Yoongi sent to the police and sent it to his wife.” 

Jimin didn’t know what to say to that. Was he supposed to laugh? He didn’t know, so he did nothing.

After a few more moments, there was a faint  _ click _ and Jungkook swung the back door open. 

Just like outside, the house was silent and showed no signs of anyone being there. All the lights were off. Following directions, Jimin pulled his phone from his back pocket and sent Yoongi the short text that they were inside.

“I’m gonna check upstairs. You stay down here and wait for Yoongi.” Jimin had no time to respond because Jungkook was already moving swiftly towards the staircase in the father corner of the living room. 

Jae-Wook’s house was not really big but not incredibly small either. It would be incredibly possible to mistake this for a normal family home… Because this  _ was _ a normal family home. With a mother, father, and two sons. Using the flashlight on his phone to look around, Jimin moved from the kitchen to the living room to see the several family photos and cozy looking furniture. There were a few expensive trinkets sitting around. The paintings, a few foreign figurines. The most costly thing had to be the purple, ceramic vase sitting on top of a corner table that was some space away from behind the front door.

But obviously the family wasn’t as perfect as they seemed to be. 

When Jimin was about to move to the door next to the staircase, some papers on the coffee table caught his attention. It was sprawled out on top of the mahogany wood as if whoever had been looking through it was searching urgently. 

He abandoned his initial thoughts and leaned over the table and to look for himself. Jimin was only able to see a few names- familiar ones- before Jungkook was loudly descending the staircase. 

That must have meant that Jae-Wook wasn’t here after all. “Where the hell is Yoongi?” Jungkook groaned, his voice a little louder now that he knew they were all alone. 

“I sent him a-” Jimin was interrupted by the opening of the back door as Yoongi came in. 

“It’s about time,” Jungkook drawled. 

“Shut up. We need to check the house,” Yoongi said, his keys dangling in his hand. “Fast. Before his ass gets here.” 

“I can keep watch for you two. Just make sure everything is quiet so you can hear me when I call up there,” Jimin said, hoping to get more time with the files on the table. If there was anything related to the Lotus Syndicate, and Jongin and Baekhyun  _ did  _ order some type of attack on the 7 Point then Jimin needed to be able to get rid of the evidence. There was probably some evidence upstairs too, but he could at least review and get rid of these important papers down here. 

“Good idea,” Jungkook praised.

“When you signal us, hide,” Yoongi told Jimin seriously. “Hide in a good place. Don’t pursue him when he walks into the house and let him come upstairs and Jungkook and I will take care of him there.” 

Jungkook gave Yoongi a knowing look in the dark. Jimin didn’t know what that was about so he ignored it. “Okay. I will.” 

Yoongi nodded and followed Jungkook upstairs. When the shuffling and footsteps finally became distant, Jimin returned to the coffee table. He was careful not to touch the papers too much because if he tampered with them too much, Jae-Wook would definitely notice.

Some of the names were the same names from a few nights ago at the club. But that wasn’t anything new to him. It was mainly just a few of their files. So Jimin moved a few of the papers around, getting a closer look at the papers under it. 

Jimin furrowed his brows and stared at what he saw under it. Photographs. Several photographs of different men from two rival street gangs. Jimin only knew this because he knew that these gangs always had a tattoo of the gang’s symbol somewhere visible to everyone to show loyalty. 

Some of the men in these pictures had a simple triangle tattooed on their wrist. That was one gang, centered in the Gangnam district. But some others had a teardrop on the side of their neck. Another gang that Jimin didn’t know much about.

Continuing to gently skim through the pictures, Jimin came to a swift conclusion. These rival street gangs were no longer rivals. There was an alliance between them now. 

And Jae-Wook could very well be responsible for it. Maybe that was how he got so many extra men for that night. Of course these street gangs would be proud to take down the 7 Point or the Lotus. It would be impeccable for their reputation.

Jimin didn’t know what to do with this information but pulled out his phone and took his own pictures of the photographs before scattering the files and photographs once again to match the way it initially looked on the table. Then suddenly.

There were bright headlights gleaming into the windows and lighting up the darkness in the living room as a car turned into the driveway. Pocketing his phone, Jimin ran to the staircase. He climbed half way before shouting in a whisper, “Jae-Wook’s here.” 

Jungkook nor Yoongi responded, but they’d definitely heard because there were footsteps scrambling around immediately. So that only left Jimin to find a suitable place to hide. So many places. There was a closet. A corner that sat next to the sofa. The pantry. He wandered into the kitchen and came across a pretty wide cabinet in the kitchen. 

He was more than relieved when he leaned down to open it and only find a few bottles of cleaning supplies down there and lots of space. Without a second thought, Jimin climbed in, thankful that he was small and flexible enough to fit in there and the fact that the placement of the cabinet allowed him to see a considerable amount of the kitchen and parts of the living room. 

When the front door opened, Jimin peeked through the small crack he’d left for himself to see and was sure to keep his breathing quiet even if it was a bit hard to be comfortable and breathe correcting in such a small, cramped space. 

Jimin watched Jae-Wook closely. He could only see his legs though. 

Jae-Wook dropped his bag onto the living room floor and groaned loudly as he presumably stretched out his limbs from a long day at work. When Jimin seen the legs begin to make their way towards the kitchen where he was, he allowed the cabinet door to close completely and silently. 

He listened closely to the sound of the footsteps and the opening of the refrigerator. Jimin  _ froze _ and stopped his breathing all together when the footsteps were right in front of the cabinet. But Jimin continuously told himself that the man was simply finding a bowl or a cup for a drink or something.

It felt like ten minutes had went by with Jimin sitting in the cabinet before there was the sound of Jae-Wook’s footsteps leaving the kitchen. Even when Jimin clearly heard Jae-Wook ascend the stairs, Jimin stayed in the cabinet for just a bit longer. For reassurance. 

When Jimin finally did deem it safe enough to leave the cabinet, he climbed out and looked around closely at anything possibly changing. He knew he shouldn’t make any noise because Jae-Wook was still-

“Ugh! You bast-” Jimin froze. 

It was Jae-Wook’s voice… and then it wasn’t. There was a loud thump of something hitting the floor and loud, strangled muffles soon after. Jimin didn’t dare move from where he was standing, suddenly consumed with the thought of what Yoongi or Jungkook must be doing to Jae-Wook up there. 

The struggling continued for a few more minutes before again… the eerie silence returned. Then a voice.

“Jimin?” Yoongi said. His voice seemed to be coming from the top of the staircase. 

“I’m still here…” Jimin responded still whispering for some reason. But even his whispering into the darkness sounded way louder. 

“Good. Stay there for a bit longer. We’re almost done.” 

Jimin only nodded his head in response as if Yoongi could possibly see him from behind the obvious wall and through the darkness. Jimin hadn’t even done anything, yet he was still breathing heavily as if he had been the one to apprehend the man. So he tried his best to stop his thoughts and calm down. 

Kook and Yoongi were almost done. They were going to leave in a bit. And the mission was going to go smoothly tonight. 

But his thoughts were dispelled and his breath caught dangerously in his throat when there was fiddling with the lock of the front door. 

Jimin was standing in the middle of the living room floor, so as quickly and as silently as he possibly could, he threw himself behind the door. Noticing that he was standing next to the large, purple, ceramic vase, Jimin slowly grabbed for it with trembling and shaky hands. 

This would have to be his weapon.

Was it Jae-Wook’s wife? But aren’t they seperated? Perhaps she came back to apologize. It didn’t really matter. All Jimin knew was that whoever it was, had the worst possible luck.

When the door opened, the voice immediately called. “Dad?” 

It was a man. Obviously one of his sons. Jimin held the expensive vase to his chest with both hands clutching it, ready to do something he really didn’t want to have to do to someone who wasn’t even involved. 

The man closed the door behind him and didn’t bother to cut on the lights, so Jimin remained just a vague figure in the shadow that the man simply overlooked. 

“It’s me, Youngjae. We have to talk about something important, Dad. I have to tell you what I did...” 

The somber, guilt-ridden voice of this man-Youngjae he’d said- Jimin felt even more anxious about doing this. But when he seen that Youngjae was heading for the staircase, Jimin had no other choice. He had to.

So with the small amount of confidence he gathered in those few moments, Jimin silently walked up behind Youngjae, raised the expensive vase, and slammed it against the back of Youngjae’s head.

The sound of ceramic shattering against his skull is louder than Jimin could possibly have imagined. The vase breaks into hundreds of pieces, all of them falling to the ground along with Youngjae’s body. 

Jimin was standing there in shock for who knows how long before the light in the staircase was flicked on. Youngjae’s head had landed on the first step as he laid there unconscious. 

“Jimin, are you okay?” It was Jungkook’s panicked voice. He was descending the staircase with the car keys dangling in his hand. 

“Yeah… his son just showed up… I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure he isn’t dead. He’ll wake up soon and will be fine. So we need to hurry up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, only sparing Youngjae’s body a glance.

“W-what do we do now?” Jimin stuttered. The sound of his shoes crunching the broken shards of ceramic and glass is only a constant reminder of what he just did. He’s only distantly aware of how bad he’s shivering.

“I have to go get the car and drive it up to the driveway so we can throw Jae-Wook’s ass in the trunk.” Jungkook is, once again, out the door before Jimin could respond, leaving Jimin standing there alone on the living room floor. 

“Y-Yoongi?”

“Yes, Jimin?” Yoongi called back from upstairs.

“A-are you almost done?”

“I’m tying him up. I need you to go open the garage for Jungkook to back the car in. We can’t throw a limp body in the trunk out in the open.” 

Jimin opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to say something. But finding it hard to do so. So Jimin didn’t say anything, just turned to make his way to locate where the button to open the garage was.

  
  


When Jae-Wook was completely unconscious, tied up, and successfully thrown into the trunk, Yoongi and Jungkook were ready to leave immediately. 

“What about Youngjae?” Jimin questioned, his fingers feeling more jittery than ever before. 

“He’s not our target. Leave him there. Youngjae knows what’s going on. Trust me,” Yoongi said. Looking into Jimin’s eyes, Yoongi gave something akin to a reassuring grin before grabbing Jimin softly by the elbow and leading him back to the car.   
“You did well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever to write. It was going to be longer than this but then I decided to just split the chapter into two. I hope you guys like it! 
> 
> Love you!


	16. Twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a lot of intense stuff. There's mentioning of suicidal thoughts, torture, body dismemberment, mentions/mockery of past child abuse, and panic attacks. This is just a warning for all of you!  
> Love you!

Youngjae woke up with a pounding in the back of his head that felt like his head was literally split open. He whimpered quietly at the feeling and tried moving but his body felt too heavy. So for a few moments, as he regained his consciousness, Youngjae slowly pried open his eyes, adjusting to the things around him. His mind slowly piecing together his surrounding and the small pieces of his memory that he could remember at the moment. 

He was on the ground and there was a light on somewhere above him. From what he could see he was surrounded by pieces of purple glass, scattered about all over the floor. And for some reason, it seemed like seeing the purple shards somehow jogged his memory. Suddenly, he remembered that he was at his father’s house. For what reason, he didn’t know that yet. Just recalled driving here, walking into the house, and then… nothing. Nothing at all except darkness following as soon as he walked into the place he once called home. 

Slowly, Youngjae shakily swept the pieces of glass in front of him away so he could move to stand. The pounding in his head intensified as if someone had just twisted the knife that was lodged into the back of his head. But he pushed through it, moving as slow as possible as he pressed his palms onto the surface of the cold floor to push himself up. It took a few minutes but eventually Youngjae moved from lying onto the floor to leaning against the first few steps of the staircase. 

Standing was completely out of the question. His vision was too blurry and his balance was completely thrown off so he’d probably fall down as soon as he moved to stand. 

After a few minutes of leaning against the stairs, everything came rushing back to Youngjae. So hard and heavy that his head pounded once more. The pain was the strongest it’s been since he woke up and tears prickled Youngjae’s eyes at the horrible sensation of pain coursing through him right now. But the thing that hurt most was the realization of it all. 

They caught him. Yoongi caught his father. 

Youngjae was too late. And not only that, but Yoongi got to him  _ after _ Youngjae told Mark to send the information to the higher ups to protect his father. Now all of that was for nothing. He was too late. And there was nothing he could do about it now. His father’s reputation was about to be tarnished because of him thinking that his protection was more important. Now both were ruined. His life and reputation.

Youngjae, trembling violently, pulled his cell phone from his pocket. It rang only twice before Jaebum picked up.

“Hello? Youngjae, sweetheart? Is everything okay?” Jaebum questioned without waiting for Youngjae to say anything. But even when Jaebum did stop talking, Youngjae still didn’t say anything. Just continued breathing heavily on the other side of the phone until he was short of breath and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Baby?” Jaebum asked delicately. “Did it go badly?”

“I’m too late,” Youngjae croaked, his voice hoarse from it’s dryness and disuse. “I was too fucking late.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yoongi got to him before I did! I-I… They knocked me out as soon as I walked into the house. Now he’s gone. And there’s nothing I can do about it,” Youngjae cried.

“Youngjae…” Jaebum trailed off, and Youngjae could understand why. Because there was no words to fix the situation or convince him that this situation wasn’t as bad as it was. Neither can anything or anyone convince him that he hadn’t made the wrong choice and ruined his father’s reputation and lost him. All in just a few days. It was just plain facts and there was no denying that.

The intense pain from his head didn’t seem to stop the intensity and strength of his tears. God, Youngjae was in so much pain right now. He just wanted to… die. That’s it. That’s what he wanted. Death because there was nothing that could possibly feel worse than what Youngjae was feeling at the moment.

“Youngjae, sweetheart. Where are you?”

“M-My dad’s house…” 

“I’m coming there. I still have the address in my phone. Just give me ten minutes, I’ll be there. Please, hang in there, sweetheart.” There was shuffling over the line immediately and Youngjae could vaguely hear the sound of a door shutting over the phone. “I’m on my way, Youngjae.” 

“O-okay…” 

And in those fifteen minutes it actually took for Jaebum to get to him, Youngjae laid there with his head inclined on the steps and cried until he almost was slipping back into the confines of unconsciousness. Exactly where he wanted to be.

He was awoken by the sweet sound of Jaebum’s voice and the sweet feeling of Jaebum’s hands on his skin. Being the mess that he currently was, as soon as Jaebum got Youngjae into the car, he was slipping into the darkness of unconsciousness once again.

  
  
  
  


Jimin was told to stay and wait outside with Seokjin and Taehyung. So here he was. Rigidly standing in between the two men while practically suffocating from his mask. The rest of the head of the 7 Point Syndicate had already gone into the rickety, abandoned looking warehouse. 

The drive here took about an hour as they’d driven to the very outskirts of Seoul. It was like they were literally in the middle of nowhere. Jimin was trembling from how cold it was and despite the fact that he felt he was suffocating behind the anti pollution mask, he was grateful that it was protecting him from the particles floating around. 

Looking up at the steadily rising moon in the sky as the wind whistled around them, Jimin distantly wondered what time it was. And how long this would take.

“Ugh, it’s my fucking birthday. Why are standing outside in the freezing fucking cold?” Seokjin growled, stuffing his balled fists into his pockets. Despite the irritation in his voice, the childish pout on his lips was quite a contrast. “Who the fuck does Namjoon think he is keeping me out here?”

Jimin was actually going to respond- he felt close enough to Seokjin to be able to openly talk with him- but Taehyung easily beat him to it. 

“Be a little patient,” Taehyung chuckled quietly. “I’m sure they’ll be out in a bit. Kook said they didn’t want Jimin standing out here by himself while they prepped Jae-Wook.”

Seokjin gave a quiet scoff. “I think prepping is the wrong choice of wording in this situation. Makes us sound like we’re going in there to fuck him or something.”

“I think that’s just you thinking that way since you take up the ass so often,” Taehyung bantered. “I’m sure Jimin didn’t think that way. Huh, Jimin?” 

Jimin tensed up a bit instinctively. He wasn’t exactly used to being included in any of their conversations, let alone being addressed. Usually they would just talk as if Jimin wasn’t around at all. And that would never really bother Jimin either.

“Um, no. I didn’t think that way at all.”

“That’s because he’s a fucking virgin. What would you expect?” Seokjin laughed. One of his large hands were thrown over Jimin’s shoulder as he continued to laugh with Taehyung. However, instead of become rigid like he initially thought he would, he relaxed. Welcoming the friendly banter and touching. 

Jimin found both of their laughs incredibly contagious so it wasn’t really a surprise when he found himself laughing along with them. But the apprehension only returned when the browning, rusting metal door of the warehouse was opened and Jungkook came out. 

“Namjoon said to come in,” Jungkook reported. He held the door open for the three of them to enter first. Despite all of the hesitance and apprehension, Jimin kept his gaze firm and fought against his nerves so he could walk with a confidence. Even if it was feigned. 

It was mostly dark inside of the warehouse; the only light coming from a light bulb that was dangling from one of its wires being lodged persistently into the ceiling. The lack of decent lighting only made the atmosphere of the already weary feeling warehouse just that much more ominous. 

Despite himself, Jimin’s breath audibly caught in his throat as he saw Jae-Wook: all bruised in the face and horrifically beat up. Jimin couldn’t even stomach the sight of him, not even wanting to guess who did this to him. Jae-Wook was bound by the wrists and was hanging by some very sturdy rope,his feet were about a foot off of the ground as he dangled just like that light bulb in the ceiling a few feet away from him. 

Namjoon and Hoseok are leaning against the far wall. Just waiting. Yoongi was standing in the middle of the room, closest to Jae-Wook’s half naked body. His back was facing them as he just stared up at Jae-Wook’s unconscious figure. 

Unlike Jimin, Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung looked utterly pleased to see Jae-Wook in such a state. Excited for what was to come. It was like some sort of entertainment for them.

As Jimin continued to slowly follow Seokjin to where Namjoon and Hoseok were standing, Jimin continued to stare at Yoongi and Jae-Wook. Soon, he realized that Jae-Wook wasn’t actually unconscious but staring down at Yoongi with the same amount of intensity as Yoongi was staring at him with.

Then it started. Almost like someone had pressed ‘play’ on a remote and the movie began.

“Everyone’s here, Jae-Wook,” Yoongi said. Jimin immediately wanted to shy away, hating the malice dripping from Yoongi’s words that weren’t even directed at him, but a hand was on his lower back before he could.

Looking back at who it was, Jimin seen Hoseok give him a reassuring look. That same look he was looking for from him on the day when Hoseok brought Jimin to the casino to see Namjoon. He wanted nothing more than a reminder that he can do it. Sort of like a scaffold for his thoughts until Jimin could remember it on his own. But Hoseok hadn’t even glanced at him. 

But this time, he did. 

Jimin nodded.

“Fuck you,” Jae-Wook groaned like it pained him to even talk. “Fuck you, Yoongi.”

“You know why you’re here? Right? You know why I spent almost ten years of my life trying to  _ ruin  _ you?” Yoongi gritted out. The words were filled with so much… emotion. Despite it mostly being anger, Jimin could hear something deeper than that. 

“Oh? You mean other than the fact that you…” Jae-Wook disgustingly hacked up a cough of blood before spitting it to the dirty, concrete ground. “That you so desperately want to run away from your weaknesses. You hide behind this facade and your  _ brothers  _ over there and all of a sudden think you’re  _ strong _ . But all you want is to get rid of the only one left in this world that knows of that scared little kid you used to be and still are. I see right through you. Because we all know you murdered your uncle, Yoongi.”

Even though the words were meant to hurt and strike Yoongi deep, Jimin had no idea if they actually did because Yoongi’s demeanor didn’t crack a bit. Jimin inaudibly exhaled, watching everything play out. 

“That’s speculation, Jae-Wook. None of you cops have any proof that I did such a thing. Just like you have no proof for anything else. But since you won’t be alive in the next few hours, I might as well admit it, right?” Yoongi scoffed, nonchalantly stuffing his hands into his pants pocket. “Yeah. I murdered my uncle. But not because of what the hell you just said.” 

“I did what I did and I’m about to do the same to you… because you deserve only death. I shot my uncle straight in the head because he was selfish. He had no remorse for what he did to me… And you. You’re literally my uncle just in another body. You’ve hurt so many children and it would be a  _ shame  _ for me not to hurt you in the same way. God, I want to put a bullet in your head, right here and right now.”

“Then do it,” Jae-Wook laughed. “Fucking do it!” And then without warning, Jae-Wook spit blood right into Yoongi’s face. Yoongi flinched from the impact before calmly pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face. 

“Oh no,” someone whispered. It wasn’t until it reached Jimin’s ears and he processed the voice that he realized that the voice was his own. 

“You’re gonna regret that,” Yoongi said smoothly, dabbing his cheeks slowly. “But as much as I want to grant your wish of dying, I can’t just yet. I need information about who you’re working with. I expect you to answer so I can get on with my life and I can end yours. Now tell me. Who the hell did you convince to do that ambush at the club?”

Jimin immediately remembered what he saw on the table in Jae-Wook’s living room. The photographs and files of two street gangs. All of it pointing to the fact that they created some sort of alliance. He couldn’t just yet give Yoongi this information until he looked over it for himself and made sure that there was nothing connected to the Lotus in anyway. He hadn’t gotten any message back from them either. 

Jae-Wook’s loud yet pained “ha!” was what caught Jimin’s attention again. “You  _ really _ -” Another fit of harsh coughing. “You really think you have some type of authority over me, you son of a bitch?”

“Don’t forget that you’re the one hanging from the ceiling, asshole. Choose your words carefully. I can choose not to be so kind to you and can kill you nice and  _ slow  _ if that’s what you would want.  _ Suffering. Torture.  _ The same suffering and torture you forced those kids to go through. Now, tell me, Jae-Wook.”

“God, look at you,” Jae-Wook laughed, sarcastically marveling Yoongi. “Look at you trying  _ so _ hard to be unbothered. But all I see is the little bruised up, crying child that so desperately wanted my help. You used to peek from behind that wall, hoping that I saw you. And I did… But I left you there, didn’t I? It must’ve hurt. So, so bad.”

The taunting. The mockery he was making of Yoongi’s situation was even a bit painful for Jimin to hear. The hand on Jimin’s back that he’d completely forgotten about had pressed a little harder. Became tense. 

And so did Yoongi. For a small moment, Yoongi’s body went rigid as he stared up at Jae-Wook. And Jae-Wook noticed. He noticed that what he said had impacted Yoongi in some way. So… he continued. “Do you remember that one day, when you looked me straight in the eye with those pleading eyes. Silently telling me to  _ help you.  _ Get you out of there. And when I turned to leave… I saw your little heart shatter. You were so, so helpless. What makes you think that you’re any different now?” 

Jae-Wook continued to twist that metaphorical knife. Jimin felt tears prickle his own eyes, imagining the situation. What Yoongi must have felt. How he must have felt right now with it all being thrown back into his face. 

When Jae-Wook stopped talking, only chuckling afterwards, Yoongi stood there for a few seconds. Staring as he let the words linger in the suffocating silence. Jimin stayed completely still. 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi called suddenly, his voice echoing through the damn-there empty space of the warehouse. 

“Yes, Yoongi?” Hoseok responded from behind Jimin.

“Go get Sehun from the car right now,” Yoongi said. That smirk returned to his face, almost as if he’d completely forgotten about what Jae-Wook had said. He most likely hadn’t. Probably just buried it away under all of the other skeletons Yoongi had in the closet.  
Hoseok was moving as soon as Yoongi said Sehun’s name. Jimin didn’t know who Sehun was but wondered if he had some type of connection to Jae-Wook also. 

When Hoseok did come back, a tall, lanky boy was close behind him. He was clad in a simple pair of pajamas, his hair pulled up into a ponytail on top of his head, almost like he literally left his home two seconds ago. He was holding an insulated cup in one hand and the other was stuffed in his pajama pants pocket. As Hoseok led Sehun further into the warehouse, Jimin watched as Sehun frowned at the scene taking place. 

Hoseok gestured towards Yoongi and lightly pushed Sehun in Yoongi’s direction. Sehun was a bit resistant though as he looked over to where Jimin and the rest of the head of the 7 Point Syndicate were standing. He gave a questioning glance and made direct eye contact with Jimin.

Not knowing what else to do, Jimin forcibly smiled. Telling the other man that nothing would happen. Even if he was sure that it actually wouldn’t end as well as he was hoping. Jimin’s optimism was a dimming, flicker of candlelight. The longer he was here, the lower that fire seemed to burn as time went on. 

“Sehun,” Yoongi voice sounded suddenly, cutting through Jimin’s thoughts like a knife. Sehun was startled back into reality. That worried look of concern on his face quickly being replaced with a phlegmatic expression and posture as if he wasn’t standing there holding onto an insulated cup and in pajamas but in an expensive suit and tie instead.

“Yes?” 

“Do you know who this is?” Yoongi questioned, stepping aside and presenting a hanging Jae-Wook with an outstretched hand like Jae-Wook was something of a prize or object to Yoongi. Jimin shivered at the familiarity of the presentation.

“No, I don’t,” Sehun said soon after. Despite his answer, Sehun still looked over Jae-Wook’s bruised, bloody, and fattened face like he was looking him over for any familiarity. But even if someone were to show Jae-Wook to his sons,  he was sure they wouldn’t be able to recognize him either. 

“You come from a really bad foster family, don’t you, Sehun?” Yoongi asked, his voice a bit high in curiosity.

“Yes…” Unlike Yoongi, the shock at the mentioning of his past didn’t only last a second but stayed there, blatantly written all over Sehun’s face. 

“You called the cops?” Yoongi pressed, even though he could see the younger’s discomfort. 

“Yes,” Sehun sighed, diverting his eyes elsewhere for a moment before looking at Yoongi again. “I called several times actually. However… the cop they sent never did anything…” 

Yoongi smiled before chuckling. “That cop… It’s this motherfucker, right here. Choi Jae-Wook. A corrupted ass son of a bitch that thinks that what he did… was okay. Even cracked a few jokes about it a moment ago,” Yoongi explained. 

Sehun’s eyes went wide at the information, suddenly resembling a fish out of water or a deer in headlights. A sudden realization that something was going to change in the next few moments. 

“Really…?” was all Sehun managed to say. 

“Yup,” Yoongi confirmed moving closer to Sehun. “And I ordered a driver to take you here so you can get some closure.” It didn’t sound like something Yoongi would say, in Jimin’s opinion to say the least, but Jimin stayed quiet. “Is there anything you wanna say to this bastard?” 

When the attention was back on Jae-Wook, the white noise that was the man’s labored breathing and pained growls were once again noticeable to Jimin. 

“I… trusted you.” It seemed like Sehun was reduced to only short sentences now as he stared straight at Jae-Wook. “That’s all I have to say.” 

Jae-Wook held Sehun’s gaze for some time before scoffing. “Sorry, kid. The world ain’t full of angels.” 

Sehun took in an audible, sharp breath, a wave of anger washing over the already sharp features of his face. “What?” He grimaced. “H-How could you say something like that?” Even Yoongi noticeably wanted to take the pistol he always had hidden his blazer and end Jae-Wook right there. 

Jimin wondered why he hadn’t yet. 

“Kookie,” Yoongi sighed loudly, evidently becoming impatient. “Do you have the knives I asked you to get?”

“Yup!” Jungkook responded cheerfully. “I got both from the butcher’s place that we own. The owner said he expects a replacement. These were new and he was excited to use them.” Jimin watched Jungkook happily prance over to a rickety table in the corner of the warehouse and grab both of the supposed knives and bring them to where Yoongi, Sehun, and Jae-Wook’s hanging body were in the middle of the space. All with a smile on his face. 

“Namjoon will take care of that,” Yoongi said. 

Namjoon gave an annoyed grunt from somewhere on Jimin’s left but Jimin didn’t bother to look because he was too interested in what Yoongi was possibly planning to do with the knives. One of them was a stainless steel cleaver. The one’s Jimin had only seen in movies when the antagonist was about to chop off someone’s limbs. It was cool in the movies, when he, Baekhyun, and Jongin used to bet with each other on who can sit through the gruesome scenes without flinching, but now… it made Jimin want to hurl. The other was a straight butcher knife. More commonly used in kitchens, but Jimin couldn’t even compare that to a kitchen knife. 

It was sharper, larger. It looked like it could cut through more than just kitchen and preparation uses.

Yoongi took both knives from Jungkook, holding one in each of his hands, seemingly pleased before turning back to Sehun. 

“Sehun, don’t you feel so  _ betrayed _ ?” Yoongi sighed softly. “Like Jae-Wook… stabbed you in the back?” 

Jimin and Sehun looked as if they immediately noticed Yoongi’s intentions at the same time. Both inaudibly gasped and went wide eyed. Jae-Wook seemed to understand too. He began yelling useless insults again.

Yoongi held out the large, straight kitchen knife and kept the cleaver in his other hand by his side. “Now it’s your turn. As many times as you want. Stab him in the back.” Sehun stared at the knife for a few seconds, blinking distantly. Sehun didn’t look like he was one to ever want to hurt someone. Jimin had no idea what he did for the 7 Point but he was sure that it wasn’t something active. Most likely something behind the scenes. 

Shakily, Sehun slowly kneeled down for a second to place his insulated cup on the ground. But when he straightened up again to presumably take the knife from him, Yoongi quickly got fed up with Jae-Wook’s yelling and in one swift, fell motion, Yoongi buried the same knife he’d been presenting to Sehun into Jae-Wook’s right thigh. 

Jimin’s surprised yelp was drowned out by his mask and Jae-Wook’s shout of pained agony as they echoed off the walls. Jimin wanted to cover his eyes or turn away. This wasn’t a movie. This was real life. The blood. The blood was real. Jimin froze in his spot and couldn’t move. Even if he was yelling at himself not to look, he did. He couldn’t  _ not  _ look.

“I  _ told you  _ to shut up,” Yoongi growled before removing the knife as quickly as he’d stabbed him, with one quick motion that only caused Jae-Wook more pain. Unfazed by the situation that just took place, Yoongi raised the now blood stained knife and held it out to Sehun again. 

“See? So easy. Now it’s your turn,” Yoongi chuckled madly. “Do you want to?”

Sehun nodded, slowly at first then frantically. “Yes. I want him to feel how I felt.” The pajama clad man grabbed the knife from Yoongi’s slightly stained hands and rounded Jae-Wook’s trembling body. The sudden confidence that seemed to fill Sehun had faltered for a bit. Jimin could see it in every aspect of him. Especially his face. 

But then it returned. Almost like Sehun remembered what happened in his childhood. The pain, the fear, the disappointment. The anger. All of those feelings looked like it filled Sehun once again as he looked up at Jae-Wook’s bare back. 

Jimin could see so easily that all Sehun wanted to do was stab Jae-Wook right there. The urge was seemed so overwhelming. 

Sehun rearranged the knife in his hand, gripping the knife at the handle so the blade was facing downward. When Sehun retracted his hand, he noticeably held his breath. So did Jimin. So did Yoongi. So did everyone else. And so did Jae-Wook as he tensed, awaiting the pain and impact.

Bad idea.

Sehun surged forward and lodged the large knife into Jae-Wook’s back. More screaming. More blood. More shock on Jimin’s part. 

Sehun removed the knife slowly and shakily, breathing heavily as he came to the realization of what he’d just done. In seconds, Sehun was pushing the bloody knife back into Yoongi’s hand. 

“How’d that feel?” Yoongi asked. 

“I-I don’t know yet,” Sehun sputtered, looking anywhere that wasn’t Yoongi, who was smiling fondly at the situation. He placed a light hand on Sehun’s shoulder and leaned closer in order to whisper into his ear. 

Jimin vaguely wondered what Yoongi could possibly be saying before Yoongi pulled away and Sehun was quickly making his way towards the door of the warehouse in which he entered through. 

“Taehyung?” Yoongi called. 

With a sigh and a bit of shuffling, Taehyung unraveled himself from around Jungkook and followed Sehun, quietly muttering something about the fact that he was still injured and shouldn’t have to be on ‘feel better’ duty. 

“Now. I’ll ask you one more time,” Yoongi began with mock patience. “Who were you working with to do that ambush? Was it the Lotus?” 

Still trembling, shaking, and dripping with blood, Jae-Wook growled to the best of his ability. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the hanging man in warning. He purposefully played with the cleaver and the bloody knife, waving them and taunting Jae-Wook. Letting him know that he was the one at a disadvantage here. 

“Son of a bitch,” Jae-Wook coughed.

“ _ Careful. _ You have so much more space for me to lodge this knife into you about fifty more times. So answer the question,” Yoongi demanded. 

“Maybe,” Jae-Wook scoffed. “Maybe it was the Lotus. Maybe it wasn’t. That’s all you’re gonna get from me.”

Again, Yoongi went silent. The nonchalant look on his face was anything but a look of indifference but instead of irritation and sign that Yoongi was done playing this game with Jae-Wook. Yoongi slowly allowed his gaze to scan over Jae-Wook’s frame. From his feet and up his hanging body. Was he looking for something? Another place to stab him in?

Jimin surely hoped not, but he wouldn’t put it past Yoongi at all. He probably was enjoying this and wanted to draw it out as long as possible. Jimin watched Yoongi closely and noticed the exact moment when Yoongi’s gaze settled on Jae-Wook’s… fingers. They were clutching the rope that he was tied up to as he looked for something to ground him from the pain that Jae-Wook must’ve been feeling. 

“I like your fingers,” Yoongi said absently. He turned towards where the rest of them were standing. “Joon and Jin? Can you please get him down from there and set him up in front of a table. Put his hands flat on the table too.” Yoongi dropped the bloody knife to the ground, letting it clatter loudly, and held up the unused cleaver to examine it. Almost like marvel it. “I have something I want to do with this.”

Jimin watched Seokjin and Namjoon as they got to work. Namjoon going to where the rope was so he can lower Jae-Wook and Seokjin moving to the corner to pull the table. Hell, even Jungkook and Hoseok moved to help. Leaving Jimin standing there along the wall by himself. Completely exposed.

When Yoongi noticed, he gestured for Jimin to come to him with just a curl of his finger. Not wanting to upset Yoongi in this state, Jimin was walking towards him without a second thought to it. He purposefully avoided Jae-Wook’s body being so close, pretending as if he wasn’t there at all. 

As if he was not about to witness Yoongi butcher the man’s fingers. 

“Follow me,” Yoongi ordered before Jimin made it to him. So Jimin followed Yoongi to the entrance, watching as Yoongi absentmindedly played with the cleaver. Waving it. Twirling it. Like some toy. 

When they finally stepped outside, Jimin was eternally grateful for the freezing temperature. It was a great change from the stuffy, bloody atmosphere inside of the warehouse. In the distance, Jimin could hear Sehun sputtering words that Jimin can’t make out.

Looking in the direction of his voice, it was Sehun pacing the space in front of the car that he must have came here in. Taehyung was just sitting on top of the car watching and lending an ear. Jimin would chuckle at the sight if he wasn’t so far into this state of shock. 

“Jimin. You’re such a good boy, you know.” Yoongi said it so suddenly and softly, that it had Jimin’s breath catching in his throat, which wasn’t the best thing at the moment since he was having trouble breathing as it was. 

“What…?” Jimin mumbled, looking back at Yoongi. He was… stunning at the moment. Despite the blood staining Yoongi’s hands and the cleaver he was holding, of course. 

“You have been good all night. But I need you to do one more thing for me,” Yoongi said. He didn’t continue though, just slowly grabbed Jimin’s hand. Yoongi’s hand was hot despite the freezing temperature, and Jimin was sure that some of the blood on his hand got onto his own hands. But he couldn’t look down to see because Yoongi was looking at him so intensely and Jimin found it difficult to break the gaze.

“What should I-” Jimin stopped. Stopped when there was something placed in the palm of his hand. The handle of the cleaver. Jimin’s eyes widened impossibly as he realized what Yoongi wanted him to do.  
“I c-can’t. I c-can’t,” Jimin repeated shaking his head in earnest. “No.”

“You can. You can. I’m gonna be right there next to you,” Yoongi reassured in a soft voice. One that would resemble Jin’s voice when the oldest was being kind or when he was in a good mood. Or even Baekhyun’s. Or Jongin’s. “I want you to see how nice this can feel when you hurt someone that deserves it.”

Trembling with tears furiously welling in his eyes that Jimin didn’t even try to wipe away, Jimin gripped the handle of the knife. He had to do this for the mission. Had to show them that he could be trusted and that he was skilled enough to be here. Prove it. To them, his brothers, his parents, and himself. 

So if he had to, then he would. 

“O-Okay…” Jimin whispered. “Okay.”

Yoongi smiled and raised a hand to place it on Jimin’s mask covered cheek. “You’re going to do so well. I know you will.” 

Part of Jimin knew exactly what Yoongi was doing. Using Jimin’s weakness against him. Matter of fact, Jimin knew this wholeheartedly, but it didn’t stop the fact that it was  _ working.  _ Jimin would drown in his words if it were possible. Because that was all Jimin wanted to do right now. To smother himself in the sweet scent of the words even if it was just bait. It was so sweet that Jimin couldn’t seem to care about what would come afterwards. 

“Really…?” Jimin found himself sighing, savoring the vague feeling of Yoongi’s hand. 

“Yes. Now come on. They are probably done setting up and are waiting for us,” Yoongi said. And once more, Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s hand by the tip of fingers and led him back into the warehouse. 

Jimin hadn’t noticed how much the warehouse reaked of blood until they re-entered the building. Even with his anti pollution mask on, the smell was clear and prominent. And when they rounded the little wall divider, everyone looked to the two of them. Eyebrows rising as they realized who was now holding the cleaver. 

Jae-Wook was indeed sitting in some old, rusting chair with Namjoon and Seokjin holding his wrists down to the wooden table in the middle of the room. But that didn’t even look necessary since Jae-Wook looked like he was on the verge of consciousness anyway. Judging by Jungkook’s giddiness, he must be the culprit.

“What did you do, Kook?” Yoongi sighed as he led Jimin to the table. 

“He tried to put up a fight so I gave him a few hits to the stomach,” Jungkook shrugged.

Hoseok rolled his eyes at the obvious lie and folded his arms across his chest. “Kook just wanted to beat him up.”

“The bitch deserved it,” Jungkook mumbled.

“All of you can burn in hell,” Jae-Wook muttered. “Do whatever you want to me. But Yoongi, you’ll never be-”

_ Chop.  _

Another loud, mind splitting scream that seemed to shattered Jimin’s sanity. When did Yoongi even take the cleaver from him? Let alone bring it down without Jimin even noticing it. Was he that disassociated from the the world right now? 

Jimin only needed to glance to see the blood. So much of it. So, so much. And a finger. A pinky finger no longer attached to anyone. 

Jimin wanted to run away but his body stayed there. In shock. 

“I told you to stop. I gave you a chance to talk and you kept trying me so-” This time, Jimin watched Yoongi raise the cleaver with all of his might. Jae-Wook instinctively tried to curl his fingers and ball his fists. “Spread your fingers or I’m gonna cut off your entire hand.”

“STOP!” Jae-Wook screamed. Jimin backed away from the horrific scene. 

“Your fingers, Jae-Wook,” Yoongi demanded. And as soon as Jae-Wook did, Yoongi didn’t waste any time bringing the knife down on another one of his fingers.

_ Chop.  _

“Oh my God,” Jimin muttered. Jae-Wook’s screaming soon became white noise as Yoongi turned to Jimin and handed him the stained cleaver. Dripping with thick, velvet blood. 

“Your turn, Minnie. Do it with all your force.”

That’s when Jimin disassociated completely. He didn’t know what made him move. What made him raise the knife. What made him bring it down with all of his strength. 

What made him keep doing it, until the other three fingers of Jae-Wook’s right hand were all dismembered.

The blood was excessive. But soon, that became something akin to white noise too.

Habituation. That’s what Jimin was doing. His brain and mind no longer seeming to mind the scene. However, he didn’t know if it was because he was adapting to this or because  _ Jimin  _ wasn’t there at all. Did he completely check out from reality?

Jimin didn’t return to his senses until there was a tight hand around his wrist, stopping him from bringing the cleaver down again. 

“That’s enough, Jimin.”

Jimin didn’t even know who said it. But it definitely offered him the hand that brought him back to the world around him. When his thoughts finally did catch up to his actions, Jimin realized that he was trembling. Harshly. And there was a hand on his wrist and another on his waist. 

Jimin realized that he, indeed, did disassociate from reality for some time. Because when Jimin looked down, seeing all ten of Jae-Wook’s fingers scattered about on the expanse of the bloody, wooden table, Jimin  _ screamed.  _ Jae-Wook’s screams were still as present.

He was the one who was holding the cleaver.  _ He  _ did that.

Jimin jerked away from the hand holding him and dropped the cleaver to the ground. Without thinking much more of it, Jimin was sprinting for the door. There was someone calling him, but the voice was so distant because all Jimin could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. 

He just butchered someone’s fingers off. 

Jimin bursted through the warehouse door almost hitting the Taehyung, who was returning, with the door, but he really didn’t care in that moment. He just looked around for the car that they came here in. 

It reminded Jimin of sitting outside of the warehouse with Kyungsoo and Jongin murdered Eito and he was waiting for Baekhyun and Chanyeol to arrive so they could go to the hotel. But this time, Jimin was involved in the game directly. Just the thought of what he did… 

“Jimin?” Taehyung asked. But as soon as Taehyung was about to comfort him, Jimin caught a glimpse of the car not to far away from them, parked on the side of the warehouse and ran away. It was childish, he knew, but he just wanted to be… somewhere else.

Luckily, the car doors were unlocked. Jimin hurriedly threw himself into the passenger seat and began ripping the mask off of his face. And there, he burst into tears, heaving for several breaths but even the sharp inhales and exhales didn’t provide him any relief. . 

He couldn’t breathe and it felt like someone had put the entire earth on his chest. The feeling of fear rising in his chest as this entire thing felt like Jimin was  _ dying.  _ Jimin threaded his fingers through his hair before fisting his hands and pulling. 

He was so far gone that he didn’t even realize that the door on the driver’s side of the car had been opened and only vaguely felt the hands on him. 

“It’s okay,” the voice said. The hands on him tightened on his wrists to pull them gently out of Jimin’s hair. Then there was caressing on his cheek. But everything was still distant except the feeling of panic and heaviness in his chest. 

“You’re okay. I know it feels like you aren’t, but you are. You’re in the car and I’m here with you,” the voice continued to reassure. Jimin closed his eyes and tried to listen to the words. Focus in on the sound of this voice and the feeling of this person’s hands on his skin. They gently moved across whatever expanse of skin they could. His cheeks. The back of his neck. In his hair. On his arm. The warmth of it was a constant reminder that Jimin  _ wasn’t _ dying. No one had put a crushing weight on his chest. And that he was okay.

Jimin couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting there, but the hands never left him. Even when Jimin opened his eyes, his vision slowly adjusting, that pair of hands were still there. 

“Jimin?” 

“Yoongi?” Jimin whispered in a broken voice. He hadn’t expected it to be Yoongi here. Taehyung or Jungkook, maybe. Seokjin and Hoseok. Even Namjoon. But Jimin hadn’t expected Yoongi to be the one to follow him or the one to sit here and comfort him through… whatever that was. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s voice was still as soft as ever, resembling the soft caresses of Yoongi’s thumb across Jimin’s cheek. Every once in a while, Yoongi would move to caress Jimin’s bottom lip before returning to cheek. 

“W-what… What happened?” Jimin asked, letting his eyes slip closed again, savoring the feeling of silent praise. Subconsciously, he leaned into Yoongi’s palm.

“You had a panic attack after what happened inside,” Yoongi sighed. “But don’t insult yourself  or demand better. That was kind of… intense so I expected you to do nothing less which is why Namjoon stopped you.”

Jimin sighed, unexpectedly glad that he couldn’t remember anything. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. Once again for his reward, all Jimin wanted to do was sleep. So that is exactly what he was going to ask for when Namjoon asked him what he wanted as a reward. 

“Is… he gone?” Jimin asked, referring to Jae-Wook. “D-Dead, I mean.”

“Yeah, but we won’t talk about that now. How about-”

“Did you enjoy it?” Jimin found himself continuing with the questions. He half expected Yoongi to stop caressing him, since he hadn’t followed the obvious order, but he didn’t. It was bewildering to Jimin. How Yoongi could go from stabbing and torturing another man to caressing another’s cheek.

But Jimin couldn’t be too surprised. Because he’d just dismembered the same man’s fingers and now  _ he  _ was the one having a panic attack. The world and nature of human was truly twisted.

“I’m not a sadist,” Yoongi sighed. “Nothing in there gave me any sense of arousal. And it’s not amusement either. But I do get satisfaction from it. From watching people finally get exactly what they deserve. Whether that receiving cold blooded torture or,” Yoongi turned Jimin’s head so he was looking at him. “Getting a reward.”

Jimin exhaled softly. 

“Jimin. You did so well tonight. You did so, so good,” Yoongi cooed. His thumb returned to Jimin bottom lip. Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut again at the sensation. “You were so perfect. You did everything I asked you to do and then some. Such a good boy.”

“Really?” Jimin sighed shakily. His breathing catching in his throat again as he let his mouth fall open for Yoongi’s thumb. “I did good?”

“Better than I could ever possibly ask from you. No one could have done better.” Yoongi’s thumb only slightly pressed into his mouth, but Jimin savored it anyway. Sighing breathlessly. His heart was swelling from all of the praise and he could almost feel himself regressing at the words. At the praise. 

“You are sheer  _ perfection _ , Jimin,” Yoongi whispered into the air. So hot and heavy in the air. Jimin loved it. He visibly trembled. 

“Please.” Jimin gaze a breathy noise, something akin to a soft moan. Yoongi continued with his voice as soft as possible while watching the way Jimin’s cheeks were reddening and how his tongue would every once in a while graze Yoongi’s thumb. 

“Come here,” Yoongi whispered.

Jimin didn’t even know if this was what Yoongi wanted, all he knew was that it was what _ he _ wanted so Jimin leaned over to kiss Yoongi. Press his lips against Yoongi’s with all of the whatever strength in his arms was left. 

Unexpectedly, Yoongi deepened the kiss, tugging at the hair at the nape of Jimin’s neck with a considerable amount of force. The kiss that was started softly by Jimin was made rougher by Yoongi as he pushed his tongue into Jimin’s mouth. Jimin shrieked in surprise and even moved to pull away but Yoongi held him. 

“It’s okay,” Yoongi whispered against Jimin’s lips when he pulled away. But just as quickly as he pulled away, Yoongi kissed him again. Languidly exploring Jimin’s mouth with his tongue. 

When they did pull away the second time, Yoongi rested his forehead on Jimin’s for a second. Sharing the breaths in the little space between them. Yoongi placed a few pecks on Jimin’s lips.

Jimin slowly sat back into his seat with a deep breath. “Yoongi…” Jimin whined, his entire body hot and heavy. Especially in his stomach.

“Stop calling my name like that, Jimin. We have things to do that aren’t this,” Yoongi said. He tried to sound unbothered, but Jimin noticed that he was. Maybe not as much as Jimin was, this being his first encounter with something as intense as this and he was sure that that wasn’t even most of it, but Yoongi was still bothered. 

When Jimin was about to respond, the back door of the car opened and Jungkook slid in. 

“All done,” he exclaimed with a childish clap of his hands. Jimin cleared his throat and focused on controlling his breathing. 

“What did you do to him?” Yoongi questioned, turning to look at Jungkook in the backseat. 

“We let Jin slit his throat. You know how much he likes to do that. Plus, it’s his birthday so it’s only fair,” Jungkook sighed before moving to peek up at Jimin. “Hey, Jiminie, how are you?” 

“He’s fine. Sit back,” Yoongi said.

“Whatever,” Jungkook let out an annoyed huff of breath. “We should get going anyway.”

“W-Where are we going?” Jimin questioned. 

“Jin’s having a surprise birthday party,” Yoongi said with a roll of his eyes. “But it aint’ really a surprise because Namjoon ruined that earlier.”

Jimin gave a short chuckle recalling earlier when Namjoon shouted over the phone about the cake order being delivered to the venue, not knowing that Seokjin was literally entering the room at the same time.

“Well we’re still going to have fun,” Jungkook reassured. “Who gives a shit about the surprise part anyway? Oh, here.” Jungkook tossed the car keys into the front seat without warning, hitting Yoongi on the cheek.

“You’re such a fucking child,” Yoongi growled. 

“And you’re such a fucking old man,” Jungkook retorted. Jimin just sat there, not knowing what else to do besides listen to their brotherly quarrel. As Yoongi moved to put the keys into the ignition, the other back car door was swung open and Taehyung quickly climbed in- well as quick as he can with that wound in his side.

“I’d be damned if I ride in the car with those three,” Taehyung sighed as he shut the door. “They’re like three parents. ‘Be careful, Tae. Be careful.’ Like do they know I’m about to be nineteen?”

“You mention it a lot,” Jimin mumbled. 

“Heard that, Jimin,” Taehyung whined. “And only because it’s true.”

“You’re still a child,” Yoongi said. “But it’s endearing. Can’t imagine you being anything other than that annoying brat you are.”

Maybe that was Yoongi’s idea of a compliment. 

While their conversation continued, Jimin leaned his head back against the cushion of the seat. Even if they were on their way to a party instead of to the penthouse, Jimin had to admit that anywhere was better than here.

The world of the 7 Point Syndicate was truly… something. Something where they all could go from committing cold blooded murder to partying and banter. It truly was twisted. 

 


	17. Let Them Eat Cake

“There’s a letter that arrived at the penthouse.” Baekhyun heard Chanyeol say before he even opened the door to the bedroom. With a raised eyebrow, Baekhyun closed the book he’d been reading in the comfort of his bed after a long day of collecting updates from their bigger companies since it was a bit too risky to do it electronically. He was looking forward to being able to relax in his bed for the night but hearing that there was a letter-- or any mail at all-- being delivered to their mansion was a surprise in itself. All mail usually went to their main buildings within the city and not directly to their home.

Chanyeol entered with a mug of presumably bubble tea since that was what the man went downstairs to get before bringing back the letter.

“Let me see,” Baekhyun said, throwing his book aside and weakly reaching for the letter when Chanyeol neared the bed. It was practically ‘their’ bed now since Chanyeol spent most of his nights here at the house anyway, but Baekhyun didn’t want to share his possessions with Chanyeol yet.

Chanyeol ripped open the envelope and took one glance at the note before handing it to Baekhyun. “It’s in English,” Chanyeol grimaced, handing the note to Baekhyun since he couldn’t read it himself.

“Jimin,” Baekhyun gasped, a pang of delight filling his chest. He couldn’t help the grin that found its way onto his lips because this was Jimin contacting them. Whatever the contents of this letter might be didn’t readily occur to Baekhyun because, above all else, it meant Jimin was alive. And that was enough for Baekhyun.

Reading over the letter, however, Baekhyun’s smile slowly shifted to a look of confusion. Chanyeol returned the expression with a perplexed look of his own as he slid into bed next to Baekhyun again, mug still clasped in his left hand.

“What is it?” Chanyeol asked, taking a sip from his tea.

“The 7 Point has problems from the inside and the outside,” Baekhyun uttered before going back to reread the letter in its entirety.

**_“I’m sure they have a plan to deal with the inside threats but the outside threats are still a mystery to them. Is the Lotus behind this? I overheard talk of an agreement between the Lotus and the 7 Point while here. Did Jongin terminate this truce? If so, why?”_ **

That’s the part of the letter that served the most importance to Baekhyun. Mostly because he had forgotten all about the little agreement between the 7 Point and the Lotus. His dad and Bon-Hwa made the agreement years and years ago so both empires could thrive without the interference of the other. And as far Baekhyun was concerned, it was going fine.

But, honestly, he didn’t _know_ if this agreement was terminated. From what Baekhyun knew, they’d done nothing to the 7 Point Syndicate and hadn’t had any plans on deciding to do so until Jimin came back.

But, as Baekhyun was learning, Jongin could have done so behind his back. He loved and trusted Jongin with all of his heart, but Jongin lately has been showing Baekhyun that he isn’t as trustworthy as Baekhyun initially thought.

“Chanyeol, have you gotten any direction to lead anything against the 7 Point Syndicate? Any ambushes, assassinations, or anything along those lines?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Chanyeol said. “I know that recently there was something that happened at that club they own. But we had nothing to do with that?”

Baekhyun looked over the letter again. He’d also heard about what happened at the club but not in great detail. Only that the youngest brother, Jungkook, almost died. And while Baekhyun commended anyone who got _that_ close to killing the youngest brother, he also pitied them for their ignorance. Anyone with sense knew that if you wanted to take down an empire, you _don’t_ aim for the top. No one goes straight for the King in a game of chess. It was a stupid tactic that had such a low chance of succeeding that you were better off just forfeiting the game all together.

But it was surprising that whoever did this actually came close to killing Jungkook. Baekhyun didn’t expect anyone to come that close except… the Lotus Syndicate. But it wasn’t them. So who was it?

“Is Jongin here?” Baekhyun asked folding the letter up again. He needed to discuss this with Jongin. Especially about this agreement and whether or not he’d been making moves without consulting him first.

“I think so. He’s probably in the office finishing up with the last of the international connections. I think the connections in China and Singapore are going to need to be tended to personally though,” Chanyeol yawned. The man worked hard on a daily basis, doing everything Baekhyun asked of him and then some, so Baekhyun couldn’t really be upset at the fact that Chanyeol was yawning when they were talking about important business.

“Okay. I’ll be back. You stay here and rest,” Baekhyun said as he kicked the blankets from over his legs to get out of bed.

“Don’t take too long. I still have a lot of energy to burn off and I was thinking of a couple ways to do that,” Chanyeol said with a teasing chuckle. And while Baekhyun knew it was just a bit of amiable banter because Chanyeol was just yawning moments ago, he hoped there was some truth to it.

Before he became truly involved in this mafia business, Baekhyun was always one who liked to sleep around with any woman or man he could get ahold of. The best part was that there was never any strings attached. But Baekhyun had to admit that having Chanyeol in bed with him regularly was something he was slowly getting used to and slowly beginning to like. So with a sweet smile that Baekhyun rarely used except around his mother and Jimin, he moved to the door to leave the room.

Approaching the office down on the other end of the hall, Baekhyun was pleased to see that Jongin was just finishing up as he stood from the chair and was currently stretching out his limbs from a long day. Seeing Baekhyun standing in the doorway, Jongin smiled in greeting.

“I know you’re probably really tired, but you think we can talk for a bit? It’s about Jimin,” Baekhyun said, entering the room fully.

Jongin gave in as soon as Jimin’s name was mentioned. It was relieving to Baekhyun to see that Jongin actually cared about Jimin. He’d been having his doubts lately and it was nice to see those thoughts weren’t true.

“What is it?” Jongin said, taking a seat on the surface of the desk instead of back in the chair.

“Jimin sent a letter to us, giving us a few updates. Basically, the 7 Point Syndicate has threats from the inside and the outside. According to the letter, they are handling the inside threats but the outside threats are a mystery to them.” Baekhyun held up the letter and handed it to Jongin who looked both interested and confused.

Baekhyun was quiet for a moment while Jongin read the letter. When he noticed that he was almost done reading, Baekhyun asked his burning question. “Are we the ones behind those threats? Like the thing that happened to them at the club? Or anything else?”

Jongin furrowed his brow and frowned heavily. “No. We agreed that we wouldn’t do it until Jimin got back,” Jongin said. “And I wouldn’t terminate the agreement without talking to Daddy first. That’s just asking for a fucking war.”

“Well… If we didn’t do it… then who did?” Baekhyun muttered as he exhaled shakily. “And if they’re already sabotaging the 7 Point Syndicate, how do we know that the shit that’s been happening to us… isn’t because of the same thing?”

“It could be the police…” Jongin pondered out loud.

“It would be all over the television if it was the police. Plus, one of our officers in the force would have informed us if the police was making moves like this,” Baekhyun said. “And what happened to Jungkook… not even the police are _that_ stupid. Who the hell goes straight for the top?”

“Someone dumb as hell,” Jongin scoffed with a roll of his eyes while running a hand through his hair. Jongin held the letter out to Baekhyun again. “We could sit here and ponder and wonder all we like but that’s not gonna get us any answers. I’ll contact Minseok and Junmyeon in the morning so they could make an encrypted message to send back to Jimin. I don’t want him to worry too much.”

“Who do you think is sabotaging us though?” Baekhyun questioned.

“It could possibly still be the 7 Point. They could be suspecting that it’s us sabotaging them and trying to retaliate. Or there’s something much more to this than we think.”

Baekhyun nodded, thinking about what he could possibly mean by that, and looked at Jongin for a little while longer. There was something unpleasant in the air between them and he wondered if Jongin noticed it too. But it seemed he did as Jongin sighed deeply and walked up to Baekhyun and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Baek,” Jongin said into the fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt. “I know you’ve doubted me lately, but I’m gonna gain your trust back. I promise.”

“You never lost it,” Baekhyun found himself saying without thinking. But thinking wasn’t really necessary because what he said was true. “We’re brothers. I may have questioned you after what you did to Jimin but I will always trust you.”

“Brothers. And that includes Jimin,” Jongin said, pulling away from Baekhyun and chuckling at Baekhyun’s own lopsided smirk. It was nice.

 

Still soaring from the pleasant feeling of the heart to heart he had with his brother, Baekhyun practically floated back to his bedroom. He expected nothing more than for Chanyeol to be passed out but it seems that the man intended on keeping his promise he made earlier. And Baekhyun was happy to indulge him in that because, of course, Baekhyun wasn’t very fond of broken promises himself.

The rest of night allowed Baekhyun to never leave his state of mentally floating as he and Chanyeol pursued each other’s carnal desires and needs. These nights in bed with Chanyeol allowed Baekhyun to be the follower instead of the leader. The slave instead of the master. And while some couldn’t fathom the thought of being controlled, Baekhyun seen it as a coping mechanism. To cope with always being the one in charge and throwing orders. No, he didn’t want that during the night.

And Chanyeol knew this without ever having to be told.

In every possible position and on every willing surface in Baekhyun’s room, Chanyeol forcibly stripped Baekhyun of all power and control. Leaving bruises, scratches, bite marks, and even carpet burns when they somehow ended up on the floor, in his wake.

The walls bore witness to their animalistic pursuit of gaining and giving away power until the early hours of the next morning where Baekhyun and Chanyeol laid entangled in the middle of Baekhyun’s bed, all covered in symbolic markings to remind them of what occurred just hours before when they would wake up again.

  
  
  


Before going to the venue, Yoongi made a quick stop at the hotel where their penthouse was. It was mostly because they needed to rid themselves of the steadily drying blood on their skin and these clothes.

Being the only one that didn’t live there, Yoongi allowed Jimin to wear his clothes since they were similar in size. Jimin tried not to think about the tension that filled the air and practically suffocated him while Yoongi delicately cleaned him of the blood. Just through Yoongi’s touches, Jimin could _feel_ the praise that was hidden in the touches. It was better than Jimin could have imagined.

It wasn’t long before they all were back in the car and on their way to the venue which happened to be one of the 7 Point Syndicate’s hotels. It was their most popular, high scaled hotel in Seoul and it was quite the money maker. The other high class hotel in Seoul was owned by the Lotus Syndicate and was also where Jimin’s mom and dad’s main office was. Jimin had only been there once and remembered it being graced with pictures of him, Baekhyun, and Jongin. It looked more like a family office than what it actually was.

Just the thought of his parents and considering the possibility that they might be thinking of him and missing him made Jimin feel euphoric and melancholic at the same time. Jimin closed his eyes and enjoyed the rest of the short ride until they pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, parking right next to Namjoon’s car that Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok were riding in. Taehyung was still avoiding them.

Jimin exited the car and felt a dangerous shiver rack through his body at the low temperature. He took one look up at the towering, luxurious building in front of him and wondered if this party was supposed to be akin to a gala of sorts. Exquisitely formal with a light sense of superiority and richness in the air. The atmosphere of the building gave Jimin the feeling that it would be. What else could possibly take place at such an elegant looking building?

But Jimin’s first instinct was so very wrong.

As the seven of them entered the hotel lobby, Jimin couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of it all. The beautiful, traditional Korean architecture, the art, the furniture, the trinkets, and even the freaking floors were just so amazing and something about them specifically screamed “owned by the 7 Point Syndicate.”

Jimin had the same reaction when he entered the hotel that his parents owned. And similar to now, the hotel owned by the Lotus Syndicate held an atmosphere that was specifically and distinctively their own. So no one-- who had the capacity to know-- would be able to mix up the belongings of the 7 Point Syndicate and the belongings of the Lotus Syndicate.

But as Namjoon led them all down a flight of stairs that was behind a door labeled “Do not enter,” Jimin’s initial thoughts about this party were proved completely wrong. Even though they’d only entered the basement of the hotel, it seemed like they’d just traveled to an entirely different building and possibly even a different part of town.

It seemed like some professionally owned underground club instead of a hotel basement. It reminded Jimin of the club during his first mission here. The booming speakers and blaring music, the vibrating walls and floors, the moving bodies of men and women everywhere, and, oddly, the very prominent smell of weed that Jimin could smell even through his mask.

As Jimin took everything in, he was interrupted by a loud yelling that came from Seokjin. “It’s my fucking birthday party!”

At that, a considerable amount of the crowd, that could possibly hear Jin over the music, all turned to look before cheering. Loudly.

Jimin wondered how anyone could stand all the noise. There seemed to be a lot of hard drugs and alcohol, and the place was filled with possibly already drunk people and disorder. But Jin seemed to love it. The attention being on him seemed to only spur the excitement as he grabbed Namjoon’s hand and pulled him into the crowd with him to greet everybody and also presumably announce to more people that it was his birthday.

Hoseok was already dancing to the music and trying to get Yoongi to move and dance along with him but the latter didn’t seem to be giving in. But Hobi didn’t look like he’d be giving up on getting Yoongi to dance any time soon.

Jimin didn’t know exactly where Jungkook and Taehyung had went so quickly, but he was sure they were close by somewhere because he could hear Jungkook’s loud, boyish laugh somewhat vaguely over the music. Jimin stayed in the same spot by the door for a few minutes, just looking around. Wondering what he was supposed to do and where he was supposed to fit in with all of this mess and disarray.

“Jiminie!” A deep voice was suddenly calling in his right ear, startling him out of his thoughts. Turning around, Jimin wasn’t really surprised to find Jungkook and Taehyung looking at him with mischievous smirks on their faces. He expected nothing less from the two eighteen year olds.

“Yes?” Jimin yelled over his mask and the music. Jungkook was the one to lean in this time to practically shout in Jimin’s ear.

“Remember when I said you’re going to get a ‘Jungkook type’ of reward?”

Jimin rolled his eyes teasingly at remembering the younger say that. He just didn’t think he was serious about it.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Come on then. It’s time to experience it,” Jungkook smiled, immediately grabbing for Jimin’s hand and pulling him off along with him and Taehyung. Pushing and shoving through the crowd while still holding tightly onto Jimin’s wrist. Jimin was quite thankful for that because he probably would’ve gotten lost without the hand to keep him grounded.

Making it to the lounge area, Jimin caught sight of Namjoon and Seokjin again as they talked with a few people that Jimin didn’t recognize. Seokjin’s head was now adorned with a crown that looked heavy and expensive. With the way Jin was carrying himself like a literal king at the moment, Jimin wondered if the crown was actually made with real gold and diamonds. He knew it was a large possibility that it was, being that Namjoon most likely bought it for Jin. Namjoon didn’t look to be one that would buy Seokjin anything less than what he wanted. And Seokjin wanted the best.  

Jin was pompously sitting on Namjoon’s lap as if the latter was his throne of sorts as he engaged in conversation as if he was superior in every way, but Jin’s signature characteristic of humbleness and kindness never left his demeanor. Only Seokjin could carry himself that way and was the only one who could make Namjoon smile the way he was smiling right now while sitting on him like he was nothing more than his furniture. It reminded Jimin of his parents once again. And all over again, his mood was plummeting at the thought of them.

Jimin expected Jungkook and Taehyung to sit with Namjoon and Seokjin but instead they walked right past the two, going completely unnoticed, and stopped in front of a man sitting on another couch. A man that was very familiar to Jimin.

“Hey, Yixing!” Taehyung shouted, catching the man’s attention which was once focused on the pretty woman sitting next to him.

It was the man who asked Jimin to play that one day. And while Jimin didn’t expect Yixing to recognize him, the brief look the man was giving him that was full of hunger suggested otherwise.

“What’s up, Tae and Kook. And you,” Yixing greeted Jimin last in an accent that Jimin hadn’t noticed the first time around. Yixing must be Chinese.

“I want some of your best stuff. We want to help our newest addition have a little fun,” Jungkook supplied pulling Jimin to stand next to him instead of behind him. Jimin found it hard to _not_ become hypnotized by Yixing’s eyes. He chuckled to himself as he thought of his kiss with Yoongi.

He wanted Yoongi again. It was like the tiny ember inside of Jimin was persistently raging brighter. And it had been ever since he kissed Yoongi earlier. He needed Yoongi and for somehow, Yixing was making that need worsen.

“Coke? Weed? A little bit of Lsd?” Yixing listed, continuing to name a few more hard drugs that Jimin hadn’t even heard of before.

“My little brother doesn’t need all of that,” the woman sitting next to Yixing butted in with an authoritative tilt to her lips that was daring Jungkook or Taehyung to retort.

“Hyuna?” Jungkook exclaimed, throwing himself on the woman who accepted the gesture readily. “I didn’t even know it was you sitting here. I thought you looked a bit familiar though.”

“I’ll take that as ‘Oh, Hyuna. Your new makeup makes you look even more beautiful.’ Which I respond with a loving ‘thank you,’” Hyuna responded flippantly.

“I see you haven’t changed much at all,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Of course not. Why should I?” Hyuna scoffed. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. You don’t need to be doing all those drugs. You’d be dead by the end of the night.”

“I wasn’t going to get all of it,” Jungkook huffed in a childish manner. “I just want the coke. It gives me the best high anyway.” Hyuna gave a disbelieving look while Yixing fumbled around in the inside of his coat. Seconds later, he pulled out a small bag of a white powderish substance. It made Jimin’s stomach turn.

But Jungkook excitedly snatched the bag away and was grabbing Jimin again. “Namjoon will pay you!” Jungkook shouted at the Yixing before once again following Taehyung with Jimin in tow.

After pushing through the crowd once again, Jungkook and Taehyung finally pulled Jimin into a small booth in the very far corner of the large space of the party. The giddy smiles on their faces as Taehyung poured the white powder onto the cold surface of the table gave Jimin the feeling that the two probably weren’t supposed to be doing drugs in the first place. But he wasn’t going to say anything of it.

Jungkook pulled a small, rectangular tool from his pocket and scraped the cocaine into two straight lines. One for him, the other for Tae.

“You want some Jimin?” Jungkook chirped, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth temptingly. Taehyung didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about Jimin’s answer as he leaned over to snort his line of coke. Jimin couldn’t help but watch silently as he followed Taehyung’s movements with focused eyes.

Watching him roll up one single bill of won before Taehyung leaned over and easily sniffed up the entire line of coke in just one quick motion. Jimin found it both fascinating and unsettling. Wanting to do it but wanting to turn his nose up at it at the same time as Taehyung wrinkled his nose and allowed his eyes to roll back. It looked almost… pleasurable.

“Jiminie?” Jungkook called again.

“Hmm?” Jimin uttered despite hearing Jungkook perfectly fine the first time.

“Do you want to try some?” Jungkook held up the little plastic bag again and waved the rest of the contents at Jimin. “It’ll feel great.”

“I… I can’t. I have… CVID,” Jimin exhaled, quickly remembering the fact that he was supposedly sickly.

Jungkook looked a bit disappointed, giving Jimin a sympathetic pout. “I forgot about that,” Jungkook huffed before following Taehyung’s movement almost perfectly. Similar to Taehyung’s reaction, Jungkook’s eyes rolled back and shiver visibly ran through his body as he shook almost like he’d experienced a quick orgasm of sorts. While Jimin basked in the sight of Jungkook’s face slack in euphoria and pleasure, Taehyung seemed to take notice to Jimin’s curiosity.

“You look almost… desperate, Jimin,” Taehyung sighed. “You look like you really want to try it.”

“I do,” Jimin admitted. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at Jimin before sliding around in the rounded booth to sit next to Jimin. He placed a firm hand on Jimin’s thigh, squeezing it lightly and leaning in to whisper something in Jimin’s ear.

“Take off the mask,” Taehyung muttered, his breath fanning Jimin’s ear pleasantly.

“I-I can’t, I have-”

“Just for a second,” Taehyung reassured. “Just wanna give you a little bit.” Jimin continued looking forward, watching Jungkook slowly recuperate.

Obeying immediately, Jimin reached for the fastening of his anti pollution mask and loosened it enough to pull it down to rest underneath his chin.

“Open,” Taehyung demanded. Jimin furrowed his brow.

He didn’t really get the chance to obey this time because the younger was already forcing two fingers into his mouth. They were slender and oddly bitter. It wasn’t until Jimin tasted the powder on his tongue that he realized that the bitter taste was actually the cocaine on Taehyung’s fingers. Obediently, he sucked Taehyung’s fingers clean while distantly making eye contact with Jungkook across the table. It was erotic to say the least.

“Good?” Jungkook asked with a smirk on his lips, leaning over the table.

Honestly, it tasted disgusting. But the adrenaline rush that coursed through Jimin’s body at the thrill of being able to do this was somehow overshadowing the taste. “Good,” Jimin confirmed around Taehyung’s fingers, pouting involuntarily when he withdrew his fingers.

Dipping his fingers back into the bag, Taehyung brought his fingers to Jimin’s mouth once again. This time, Jimin was eager for the taste of the cocaine on his tongue. Sucking the substance off once again with celerity as he experienced with Jungkook and Taehyung must have felt. Senses going into overdrive at just the ingestion of it. Jimin wondered what it would feel like later on.

“There you go, Jiminie. Put your mask back on for me,” Taehyung said.

Jimin didn’t hesitate this time. Just the thought of doing something good for someone else was enough to make Jimin want to obey. Because if he did it perfectly, he’d be praised and praise was all Jimin ever could want.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook said suddenly, moving to stand up from the booth.

“W-Where are we going?” Jimin said, fixing his mask over his face once more.

“Get something to drink, of course,” Jungkook said, his eyes already darting around the room and his fingers already fidgeting restlessly. “But remember,” Jungkook said, as he held a hand out to Jimin to help him stand from the booth. “Never drink alcohol while on drugs.”

“Would hate for you to get hurt,” Taehyung agreed. His voice was wavering too as they pulled Jimin back into the crowd. His skin beginning to tingle.

“Will I get high from this?” Jimin questioned quietly, half expecting neither of them to hear him. But the quickly responded: “Hopefully.”

  


Despite the warning about a twenty minutes ago about not drinking alcohol while being high, Jungkook was dancing his way over to the bar in that same amount of time. Jimin looked around for Taehyung until he remembered that Tae had left as soon as he’d felt the impact of of the coke. As soon as it hit him, Jimin watched him run for the dance floor, everything about Taehyung wavering in euphoria.

Now, Taehyung was dancing crazily in the middle of the venue with Hoseok, completely bothered with the initial rhythm of the song.

“Minnie! You want some soju? Some _vodka_?” Jungkook yelled over the music. He didn’t give Jimin a chance to respond though before the youngest made the choice for him. “Of course you do! Excuse me, pretty lady. Give me some shots of soju! I need a lot of them, okay. And-”

“No, he doesn’t. Give him a glass of punch. He’s underage,” another voice interrupted, pulling the attention of the bartender. There was a hand that was placed sweetly on Jimin’s waist as the person rested their chin on Jimin’s shoulder.

The coolness of the crown on the person’s head resting against his head was enough to tell him that it was Seokjin.

“Jinnie,” Jimin giggled, leaning back into the warmth of the man’s body. So soft. So warm. When did Seokjin become so much like a pillow, Jimin wondered.

Jimin didn’t know what he was feeling at the moment, but he knew that it felt perfect. He felt like he was suddenly floating and his head was in the clouds. “Jinnieee,” Jimin continued to sang.

“Jimin? Are you-”

“I’m not underage, okay?!” Jungkook yelled before bursting into a fit of giggles. “I just turned eighteen, so jokes on you, Jin! Ha!”

Continuing to hold a blissfully smiling Jimin in his arms, Jin narrowed his eyes at Jungkook who was about to climb up onto the bar. “You’re high,” Seokjin said. “You always act like this when you get high.”

“And?!”

“Drinking while your high is never a good idea and you know that,” Jin reprimanded.

Jungkook only shrugged before successfully climbing onto the bar-- he’d failed the first few times he tried-- and began to dance. The bartender definitely didn’t look to be pleased but didn’t say anything of it because this was Jungkook. And Jungkook was Bon-Hwa’s favorite son so he got exactly what he wanted from anyone working for 7 Point Syndicate. It might as well be in the job description when one signed up to be apart of the empire.

But Jin wasn’t a bartender and while he definitely worked for the 7 Point, Jin held some type of authority over Jungkook unlike most people. But when he was about to demand that Jungkook get down from the bar, there were people cheering and laughing at him. And Jungkook was basking in the high of the coke that he’d obviously taken and the attention. So Jin said nothing more of it.

Instead, he kept a tight hand around Jimin’s waist and giggled at his behavior. “You wanna dance, Jiminie?” Jin asked when he felt Jimin trying to move in someway to the beat of the EDM music blaring. It was actually one of Seokjin’s favorite songs.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Jimin hummed. “I wanna dance. I feel… _good._ I wanna dance with the birthday king.” Jimin continued to giggle and sigh in bliss under his mask. Jimin couldn’t imagine anything feeling better than this.

“Okay. Whatever you want, Jimin. You truly do deserve it.”

  
  


Oops.

Jimin had lost Seokjin. Or maybe Jin just walked away from him. Namjoon was here just a few minutes ago too. Did they leave him alone like that?

With Jimin’s body thrumming and his legs shaky, he slowly made his way around everyone with a smile plastered onto his face. It seemed to make a home there on his face for the time being because that smile hadn’t left his face since he’d felt the high hit him so quickly. He knew it wasn’t the full effect but this was enough for him.

Roaming around to look for Jin and Namjoon, fully intending on pouting to them for leaving him alone in the middle of the dance floor, Jimin came across two figures. They were in the small corner that he, Taehyung, and Jungkook were sitting in earlier. Looking to the bar where Jimin had last seen Jungkook dancing, he frowned to see that it was empty and that Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere to be found either.

Jimin gave a childish pout under the confines of his mask. As he neared the small booth, he realized that it was in fact Jungkook and Taehyung in that corner. Clumsily indulging in one another. Taehyung straddling Jungkook while tightly holding onto the younger’s chin to keep him still as they kissed.

Standing just a few steps away, Jimin couldn’t help but _stare,_ the thrumming in his body seeming to become just that much more intense. His breath caught dangerously in his throat as he watched Jungkook dig his nails into Taehyung’s skin and drag them down the skin of his arms. Taehyung’s hand in Jungkook’s hair as they roughly ground their lower halves against each other.

From what Jimin could see, it was rough, sloppy, dirty, and above all else, it seemed to be so very pleasurable. Jimin’s heart rate and breathing increase as a spike of heat rolled through his entire body. Hating to admit that he truly did want to continue to watch, Jimin forced himself to turn away and not intrude on their privacy-- well as much privacy as booth in a corner could provide. Also, the two were younger than he was.

As he tried to rid his mind of the image completely, Jimin absentmindedly began to roam again. Luckily though, the fact that his gaze was darting so quickly around the room, he was able to catch the slightest glimpse of Seokjin’s crown. It was in the same place where they had gotten drugs from Yixing.

The high Jimin was feeling from the drugs did nothing to hinder the innocence in his manner as he threw himself into Yoongi’s side when he’d made it past the people and to the lounge. Fully intending on fulfilling his promise of pouting for being left alone.

“What’s your problem?” Yoongi frowned. He was simply lounging back on the comfy couch, nursing his glass of expensive champagne when Jimin came running over. Just that action alone, let Yoongi know that something with Jimin was off.

“Kook and Tae let him do coke,” Jin chuckled, reaching over to run a sweet hand through Jimin’s hair. “He’s experiencing his first high. I’m sure all of us were just as crazy during our first time.”

“You left me alone.” Jimin tried to sound sad but ended up sighing in the end and holding tightly onto Yoongi. Savoring the feeling of Yoongi so suddenly carding his fingers in his hair.

“Because you didn’t want to stop dancing,” Namjoon laughed. “Me and Jinnie got tired. We told you that.”

Hoseok had said something afterwards that had everyone laughing, including Yoongi, but Jimin didn’t listen to what was said. More like he couldn’t listen to what was said. Yoongi had an arm around him while playing with his hair so pleasantly, Jimin curled into his side, one of his arms thrown over Yoongi’s torso. With Jimin’s face tucked into Yoongi’s neck, he could clearly smell Yoongi’s natural scent. This felt like cuddling and Jimin couldn’t get enough of it.

“Yoongi,” Jimin gasped softly into the skin of Yoongi’s shoulder. With the music still playing, only Yoongi could Jimin.

“Hmm?” Yoongi hummed, low from in his throat as he took another sip from his glass.

“Kiss me. I want you to kiss me,” Jimin begged quietly. “I need you to kiss me.”

“You don’t need it.”

“I do,” Jimin insisted, fisting Yoongi’s shirt in his fingers. With his hand on Yoongi’s chest, he could feel the way his breathing shifted. He hoped that it meant that Yoongi wanted this as much as he did and not that Yoongi was becoming aggravated with Jimin’s attempts. But even at just the possibility of being considered a pest was enough to make Jimin back off.

“Yoongi, I’m sor-” Jimin started as he began to pull away from Yoongi completely, but the latter stopped him.

“Don’t be,” Yoongi said, straining to look down at Jimin. “Don’t be sorry.” The fingers in his hair stopped the caressing motion and instead tightened ever so lightly in the strands. “I told you earlier that you were so good. You’re going to get a reward. I promise, I’ll kiss you everywhere, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes. Yes, I want you to kiss me everywhere.” Jimin shivered at the thought of being kissed. His skin heated up, especially in his lower stomach.

“I will. Just wait until we get back to the penthouse,” Yoongi promised.

Jimin swallowed thickly and nodded.

Suddenly, the music stopped after it being played for the last few hours. It wasn’t until then that Jimin noticed the ringing in his ear.

“A birthday isn’t a birthday without some cake, right?” The woman Jimin remembered to be Hyuna announced. And yet again, there was cheering and clapping as a large cake with several flaming candles was brought out from behind the door behind the bar, being carried over by Jungkook and Taehyung. Jimin blushed at the sight of them.

Seokjin was smiling brightly and even clapping and singing along to his own birthday song as everyone sang to him. As the song came to an end, Hoseok unexpectedly yelled, “Let us all eat cake!” and the entire venue rumbled and vibrated again at the declaration as the music began once again.

Jimin couldn’t deny the fact that cake sounded like a great ending--or beginning-- to the night.

Wrapping his own slice of cake into a napkin (his so called disease wouldn’t allow him to have his mask off for more than just a few moments), Jimin watched as Yoongi only stared at his piece of cake that was just sitting there in his lap.

Jimin frowned. This morning, Namjoon was sure that everyone would be fond of the type of cake he ordered yet Yoongi was looking at the cake as if it was garbage sitting on his plate instead of a piece of decadent cake.

“Do you not like vanilla cake?” Jimin asked. Seemingly caught off guard, Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

“The cake?” Jimin reiterated.

“Oh…” Yoongi looked like he was just going to dismiss Jimin right there, and he actually was going to. But he caught just the shyest glimpse of Jimin’s eyes and knew that he’d hurt Jimin’s feelings.

“I just don’t really like cake. It’s nasty to me,” Yoongi rushed his words.

Jimin was very observant, so he was easily able to see that it was just an excuse. But Jimin possessed no right to continue to pester the older about it. Instead, he nodded and looked to Seokjin and Namjoon who were feeding each other pieces of cake.

  


Youngjae had only been able to get just one or two hours of sleep at a time. Even having Jaebum here, holding him so closely wasn’t helping him fall asleep or feel like he wasn’t a complete failure of a son.

With a sigh, Youngjae gently removed Jaebum’s arms from around his waist and moved to get out of bed. He looked at the clock once and wasn’t really surprised to see that it was two in the morning.

“Jae, where are you going?” Jaebum grunted, still mostly in his deep sleep.

“I want a cup of water,” Youngjae sighed, not waiting for the other to answer before heading for the door. It was rude, Youngjae knew, but he wanted to be alone and away from Jaebum without having to exactly explain that to him. So to avoid that, Youngjae just left before the conversation could go any further or Jaebum could protest.

Shutting the bedroom door behind him, Youngjae wandered into the kitchen. Tears were already burning the rims of his eyes as he curled into himself before he could even make it that far from the bedroom door. He cried as quietly as humanly possible because his sniffs and sobs sounded so much louder and so much more lonely in this house.

Even with Jaebum here, Youngjae felt lonely.

He was sure he’d spent about ten minutes crying on the floor and even almost cried himself back into slumber right there on the floor a few times. Not wanting to risk falling asleep right here on the hallway floor, Youngjae picked himself up and dragged himself into the kitchen. He could really use that cup of water he said he was coming in here to get.

Hauling himself to the refrigerator, he took notice to a decorative plate that was sitting on the countertop. The plate was holding a slice of soft, decadent looking birthday cake. The cake looked great, but Youngjae knew that something was off.

That piece of cake wasn’t there earlier when he and Jaebum arrived.

Nearing the cake, Youngjae noticed a note that was tucked under the plate. He slowly slid the small note from under the plate and read it quietly to himself. “Sorry for your loss. Here’s a slice of cake for your troubles.”

Youngjae swallowed thickly as he quickly flipped the card over, half expecting nothing to be written there, but there was. “In three days, I want you to meet me in a specific location that I’ll send to your computer. Don’t bring anyone or inform anyone of this. If you do, I will find out. And it won’t be pretty.”

Youngjae reread the note a few times, his head beginning to pound once again. He wiped the tears from his eyes several times, hoping that he wasn’t going to be faced with yet another choice. That the words on the note would somehow change.

But they didn’t. Leaving him to make yet another choice. To tell Jaebum about this or to deal with it himself. He stood there for a while. Weighing everything in his already broken mind. With his judgement clouded, Youngjae made his choice in just five minutes.

He slipped the note into his one of the kitchen drawers and placed the slice of cake into the fridge before leaving to go back into the room. With his head pounding until he felt it would split open, Youngjae wrapped himself around Jaebum again and willed the thought of the fact that someone had so blatantly came into his home to leave a slice of cake and a note, until he could fall into slumber once again.

He never did get his glass of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! First, I want to say thank you for all your sweet comments! It's so encouraging to see that you all like this story and I want you to know that I appreciate to bits and I love you all!   
> I hope you all like this chapter and I'm sorry that it always takes so long! I still love you!
> 
> Love, your Mochi


	18. Tell Me A Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of stuff in this chapter. Two sex scenes (it was incredibly funny to write like always) and Youngjae contemplating the death a lot. I would like to say that you can skip the chapter but there's some important stuff to the plot line in this chapter. So Mochi's sorry. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Jimin was being a good boy. He’d been a good boy all night and he would continue to be one because Yoongi was going to reward him for it. Kisses all over and wherever he wanted. It sounded like a passageway to heaven for him. 

So here Jimin was sitting on the bed, obediently waiting ever so patiently for Yoongi to come back from downstairs. His head still slightly floating in the euphoric haze of the cocaine from earlier as he wiggled his toes innocently. Eyes darting around the room, Jimin sighed sleepily, allowing himself to fall back onto the soft mattress. 

He was sure that it was just him. but it was becoming impossibly hot in here the more he waited. So he allowed his nimble fingers to toy with the hem of his shirt, contemplating removing it. But as he began to, there was the sound of the door opening and a voice.

“Jimin?”

“Yoongi,” Jimin gasped softly, turning his head to look at the man who had just walked into the room. “I was waiting for you for so long,” Jimin pouted, rolling onto his stomach.

“It was only five minutes,” Yoongi chuckled, removing his blazer and vest, leaving him in just his button up shirt. 

“Five minutes too long,” Jimin whimpered. 

Jimin distantly wondered what was causing him to act so… needy. He could easily blame it on the drugs but he’d taken that hours ago. Would that still be affecting him this way? Causing an insatiable heat to burn under his skin as he anticipated the moment Yoongi would touch him. 

Or was that just all Jimin?

Jimin wasn’t allowed the chance to continue to think or ponder when there was a firm hand around his neck, pushing him down and into the mattress. 

“Ah…” Jimin moaned softly, his hands shooting up to hold onto the hand around his neck. To feel how the fingers tightened around the soft skin of his throat. To possibly get them to squeeze a bit harder.

“You looked like you were thinking too much,” Yoongi said huskily, close to a whisper. His grip loosened for a few seconds before tightening once again. Yoongi bit his bottom lip to restrain a groan at the way Jimin’s lips would part everytime Yoongi applied any pressure to his neck. Even just something as simple as light asphyxiation seemed to cause Jimin to float and his knees to buckle.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You,” Jimin admitted softly, his eyes fluttering to a close. “I’m so needy for you. I need something.”

“What do you need?”

“Anything. Anything at all.”

“I asked for specifics, Jimin,” Yoongi warned, withdrawing his hand from Jimin’s neck to which Jimin sighed disappointedly at. 

As soon as Yoongi removed his hand, a painful pang struck in Jimin’s chest. Yoongi sounded displeased with Jimin and that meant that he’d did something bad or wrong. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jimin pleaded, reaching to his side to grab for Yoongi again, holding tightly onto the older’s wrist. “I’m so sorry for not being good. I’ll answer your question like a good boy.”

“Then what do you need me to do for you?” Yoongi’s voice was still strict and Jimin could hear something unpleasant in his voice. Jimin whined again, tears welling in his eyes at the overwhelming feeling of self disappointment. 

“To be kissed,” Jimin sighed, running a hand down his torso. “I want you to kiss me everywhere. Please.” 

Even with his eyelids low, Jimin could see the way Yoongi’s face softened again as he placed a hand on Jimin’s cheek. Caressing his cheek with his thumb. As Jimin let his eyes fall closed again, there was a wet kiss pressed just beneath his ear. 

“Like that?” Yoongi whispered. He left a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses up to the shell of Jimin’s ear and down to his collarbone before stopping to suck at the skin there. 

“Yes, please,” Jimin whined, a shock of something unknown racking through his body so suddenly causing him to tremble. The feeling was only intensified when Yoongi moved to hover over Jimin’s body. Like this, Jimin felt encapsulated by Yoongi and completely at the older’s disposal by simply being under him like this. 

Jimin didn’t even notice when the kisses on his neck ceased until there were brief kisses being placed on his lips. His mind short circuiting again, it took Jimin a moment to return the kisses. When he finally did match Yoongi’s rhythm, he rapidly deepened the kiss coaxing his inexperienced tongue into Yoongi’s mouth. A sense of indescribable pride filled Jimin when Yoongi moaned quietly into his mouth. 

Feeling a bit more confident now, Jimin moved to unbutton Yoongi’s shirt, but Yoongi stopped him. “This is your reward, not mine,” Yoongi reminded against Jimin’s lips, sucking Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth softly. 

Yoongi’s voice, his kisses, and just the heat of his body on top of his own were all causing Jimin to continuously regress into a state where everything was just… light and delicate yet unknown and intense. Jimin would have completely regressed if it weren’t for the sudden presence of pressure on his wrists as they were pinned to the mattress. 

“Oh my- Ah. Yes…” Jimin moaned loudly, his mind no longer embarrassed about making too much noise. Everything in him was hyper focused on everything here and now. And that was Yoongi. And only Yoongi. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, okay?”

“Yes. yes, I won’t touch you,” Jimin promised, his voice still high in pitch. 

“Sit up, so I can take off your shirt,” Yoongi demanded softly, reaching for the hem of Jimin’s shirt. Jimin obeyed immediately. As soon as the fabric of the shirt was removed, Jimin moaned faintly at the cool air of the room hitting his sensitive skin as he fell back onto the mattress. Presenting himself to Yoongi. 

The kisses that Jimin had been looking forward to for hours finally returned as Yoongi continued leaving a trail of kisses down Jimin’s collar. Jimin was simply floating and basking in the sweet feeling of being kissed-- a pleasant smile playing across his lips-- until Yoongi wrapped his lips around Jimin’s right nipple. 

The pleasure was almost instantaneous and Jimin had to fist at the mattress in order to follow Yoongi’s orders and not touch him. “T-that- Oh my god, it feels so good,” Jimin cried. Clumsily, he wrapped his legs around Yoongi’s waist, toes curling as he held him close, a subconscious way of his to actually touch Yoongi. But that only succeeding in making everything just  _ that  _ much more overwhelming for Jimin. 

Jimin’s needy gasps quickly shifted into full blown, loud, unrestrained moans as he reveled in the hot feeling of Yoongi’s groin pressed deliciously against his own. Even through his pants, Jimin could tell that Yoongi was so hard and that was all because of Jimin. It was a sign to him that he was being good. So, so good. 

Jimin subconsciously rocked his lower half into Yoongi’s, reminding himself that he was responsible for Yoongi’s hard on. It was like praise to Jimin and the more friction he received from grinding against Yoongi, the more the fire in his lower stomach burned.

“Careful, baby,” Yoongi warned, with a deep chuckle to his voice. But even as he warned Jimin, he nipped at Jimin’s nipple, biting hard enough to have Jimin’s shuddering and his eyes rolling.

“Y-Yes… D-don’t stop. So good,” Jimin begged as his back arched and Yoongi’s tongue swirled around his nipple. Yoongi groaned against the skin of Jimin’s chest before bringing his hand up to toy with Jimin’s other nipple that had been abandoned from the start. Jimin wanted to last but he doubted he would because the attention to his nipples and the friction on his cock that was nowhere near enough already had Jimin wrecked and falling apart.

“Love how it feels,” Jimin whined. “M-more. Please. Harder…”

Yoongi didn’t respond but definitely obeyed Jimin’s pleads as he sucked Jimin a bit harder and pulled back enough that the skin pulls a bit. It feels… a fitting word won’t form in Jimin’s mind because the only thing he could think of is Yoongi. 

“I’m-- Oh, I’m gonna-” Jimin’s voice cracked and faltered as his words morphed into a long, drawn out moan that filled the air of the room.

“Don’t,” Yoongi demanded biting lightly at Jimin now puffy nipple before moving to the other, to give it the same amount of attention. “Don’t come until I tell you to.” 

“Mmm, o-okay,” Jimin tried, pulling incredibly hard at the sheets on the mattress as a physical restraint to keep himself from coming. Jimin tried to keep himself restrained by reluctantly halting his constant thrusting against Yoongi’s lower half. It worked for a bit until Jimin’s thighs fell open from use and Yoongi ground his lower half dangerously slow against Jimin.

And that was it. 

Jimin’s eyes rolled back so hard and all of his limbs and muscles locked up for a few seconds, a wrecked moan catching in his throat. He convulsed and a wave of something so euphoric raked through his body as he reached the peak of his orgasm. 

It wasn’t until a few moments after his mind caught up that tears began streaming down Jimin’s face at realizing that Yoongi’s mouth and hands were no longer on him. The thought of being deemed bad. At being insulted again and told degrading things because he hadn’t obeyed Yoongi’s order. Yoongi hadn’t said he could cum and yet he did anyway. 

Jimin had regressed and descended so far into this headspace that his emotions were running wild and to him, this feeling of disappointment was magnified a thousand fold. “I’m so sorry,” Jimin cried, bringing his hands to cover his face in shame. “I didn’t listen. I was bad. I’m sorry.”

Expecting nothing less than to be manhandled or even left there, crying and dirty, Jimin trembled and continued to plea even though it felt like oxygen was becoming harder and harder to breathe in. 

“Jimin. Calm down. You’re going to have another panic attack if you don’t.” Despite the warning, he was too far gone to even attempt to calm down. “You’re my good boy. So obedient and talented. You do everything I ask of you. You’re so perfect and I could never be upset and angry at you.” 

“Y-Yoongi…” 

“I mean it. You were so good just now. Your moans were so beautiful,” Yoongi continued, pressing kisses to his ear and cheek again. The praise was a perfect way to grab hold of Jimin before he slipped into a panic attack, calming him gradually. 

“I-I came when you said not to…” Jimin sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

“This was your first time, Jimin. I’m sorry that I forgot that,” Yoongi said quietly. “But one day, you’ll be able to listen to my every command. You want that?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin mumbled sweetly. 

“Give me a kiss, Jimin.”

Slowly regaining control, Jimin turned his head and pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s lips. As the kiss deepened and Jimin shifted around to get comfortable, he grimaced at the uncomfortable, wet feeling in his underwear. His cheeks heating up at the mortifying act of cumming in his pants, Jimin looked away from Yoongi. 

Chuckling, Yoongi seemed to catch on quickly. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. My good boy,” Yoongi said.

“What about you?” Jimin said shyly as he gestured down to the very prominent tent in Yoongi’s pants. 

“We’ll take care of it in the shower,” Yoongi reassured, pulling Jimin out of bed and supporting him until they reached the bathroom since Jimin’s legs were still weak and his mind still too slow. 

Jimin had been in this bathroom several times yet, it felt like the first time because of what they were in here to do. To shower and to give Yoongi the same pleasure he had received just moments earlier. It excited Jimin to a certain extent but also intimidated him. He’d never pleasured anyone else before and was scared that Yoongi wouldn’t enjoy it. 

But his worries slowly vanished when Yoongi pulled him in for another kiss. 

After Yoongi had started the shower for the two of them and turned around, he’d been somewhat blown away by the way Jimin looked that he couldn’t help but pull him in for another kiss. Even though his eyes were somewhat puffy from crying, it only added to the image of Jimin being completely wrecked. The skin just below his collarbone was littered in blooming hickeys, his nipples puffy and red, his pants low on his waist with a large wet spot on the front. That, on top of Jimin’s natural gullible exterior was enough to cause Yoongi to twitch in his pants. 

The way Yoongi was roughly kissing him, claiming and devouring him, made Jimin moan luxuriously into the older’s mouth as he locked his arms around his neck and held him close. Both of them quickly removed each other clothes, sighing at finally removing all of the restraints and moved to the shower. 

Only the first ten minutes had been spent with them actually washing each other. However, the other thirty minutes was spent filling the steamy air of the bathroom with moans and groans. 

“More, please. Faster… ” Jimin begged, digging his nails into the pale skin of Yoongi’s back, wanting to leave marks as reminders of this time together. During their time in the shower, Jimin learned just how much Yoongi loved begging so Jimin ensured that he utilized it whenever he truly wanted Yoongi to do something. Like now. 

Yoongi had Jimin pressed firmly against the shower wall as he rubbed both of their cocks together in one of his hands. Jimin had to admit that there was a slight discomfort in his lower stomach from the overstimulation as he had just come just moments before getting the shower but he couldn’t find it in himself to ask Yoongi to stop. It felt so good to have Yoongi so hot and heavy against him. 

“I- Oh my god, Yoongi. I-” Jimin gasped before clamping his lips and eyes shut, as his orgasm rapidly approached. It felt like Jimin had been teetering at the edge of a cliff for some moments. It was when Yoongi sank his teeth into the skin of Jimin’s neck that he was pushed off of the edge. 

“So good, baby,” Yoongi growled. “So pretty, right?”

“Y-Yes,” Jimin sighed, voice wrecked and breathless.

Holding and clutching onto any part of Yoongi that he could get a solid grip on, Jimin finally settled with fisting one hand in Yoongi’s hair and the other holding onto the back of Yoongi’s neck as he finally reached his peak, and while not as intensely as the first time, it was just as pleasurable. Yoongi does his best to hold Jimin up as he practically shakes from this orgasm. 

“Hurts-” Jimin gasped as Yoongi continued relentlessly. His entire body was buzzing and the more Yoongi stroked them, the more that spark became too much for him. Burying his face in Yoongi’s neck, Jimin could tell that Yoongi was so, so close just by the tenseness in muscles. And as much as he wanted to be good… it hurt. 

“Hurts…! Please, Yoongi,” Jimin pleaded, crying out in relief when Yoongi finally does stop and also from the feeling in his chest when Yoongi spills onto his stomach. Jimin cannot even begin to describe the blissful feeling he’s experiencing, but attempts to convey it to Yoongi with a firm kiss to his lips. 

Jimin wants this, wants Yoongi more than he ever thought was possible.

 

***

 

Jimin woke up the next morning to the sound of someone’s footsteps as whoever it was ran through the hallways while laughing. It had to be Jungkook because no one else had such a boyish laughter. Yoongi--probably already used to Jungkook doing things like this-- didn’t seem bothered one bit by the noise and stayed in his deep slumber. 

Jimin was hugged closely against Yoongi’s side, his head resting on Yoongi’s chest and his legs wrapped and intertwined around Yoongi’s. Jimin felt his cheeks and ears burn at the thought of clinging to Yoongi all throughout the night. He vaguely remembers a few times Yoongi actually grumbled about Jimin’s clinging and even went as far to physically move Jimin himself, but that obviously hadn’t work because here Jimin was, wrapped around him again. 

Carefully, he attempted to pull away from Yoongi without waking him up. At first, Yoongi stayed deep in his slumber but he must have quickly noticed the Jimin’s leaving his body because Yoongi was lightly pulling Jimin back down into the mattress. “Where are you going?” Yoongi muttered, his eyes in little thin lines as he looked up at Jimin, bringing the latter’s hand up to his lips to press a reassuring kiss there. 

“I heard Jungkook,” Jimin said, openly blushing. “Is it okay if I go?” He wasn’t really sure why he was asking Yoongi to do something but there was a feeling in his chest that was telling him that he should. A warm feeling that had been in his chest since Yoongi carried him back to bed last night. 

“I don’t care,” Yoongi grumbled. He gently let go of Jimin’s hand, shifting to lie on his side now that Jimin finally moved. “Why’re asking me like you don’t have a mind of your own?” 

“Sorry,” Jimin uttered. Yoongi only grunted instead of giving a verbal answer. As time went on, Jimin was slowly learning the things that annoyed Yoongi and what things didn’t. It was mostly when Jimin would act too pliant for his liking. Such as asking to simply leave the room.

With a sigh, Jimin carefully got out of bed and moved to leave the room. As soon as he’d opened the door a bit to slip through it, there was a loud yell and a childlike squeal. Peeking down the hall, Jimin caught a glimpse of Taehyung’s figure and his deep chuckle right before he and-- presumably-- Jungkook ran down the stairs. Taehyung must’ve been chasing Jungkook around the house considering the fact that the racket continued downstairs and Jungkook could clearly be heard yelling, “Stop chasing me! I told you I don’t know where it is!” 

Jimin couldn’t quite make out Taehyung response but the chasing definitely continued despite Jungkook’s tired, desperate pleas. Hearing the two caused a distant yet clear image of the night before pop into his mind. It was confusing for Jimin to say the least. 

It wasn’t so much the fact that they were together-- Jimin had always questioned the true nature of their relationship-- but it was rather the fact that, if he recalled correctly, a relationship between the two was sort of forbidden. At least, it seemed that way from what he’d heard from Namjoon and Yoongi when he was simply sitting in on a conversation that didn’t involve him. 

He was sure that Taehyung was aware of  _ whatever  _ damages or consequences that came with dating Jungkook. Jimin wasn’t exactly sure, himself, but Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t look too pleased with the possibility and were actually adamant about preventing a relationship between the two. 

Jimin made a mental note to ask Taehyung about it later when Jungkook wasn’t around. 

Jimin began making his way down the hallway to meet the two downstairs since he’d recently become somewhat closer to the two younger men. If Jimin was being honest, he mostly enjoyed being around the two because he was the oldest of the three and he couldn’t deny that it felt nice. 

He passed the door that he remembered led to the computer lab and was sure that the tapping coming from in there was Hoseok. No one spent as much time in here as he did. Thinking that it was probably best to get on Hoseok’s good side-- maybe he’d allow Jimin in here one day-- Jimin slowly twisted the knob to the door and simply looking inside. 

Indeed, Hoseok was sitting in front of the computer but, unlike Jimin had expected, Hoseok hadn’t even spared him a glance. Taking advantage of the situation would prove to be hard since Jimin couldn’t properly see what was on the computer, was out of the question so Jimin decided to just leave Hoseok alone for now. 

Slowly and silently shutting the door again, Jimin continued his route downstairs, speeding up the process when he passed Namjoon and Seokjin’s room and heard some hushed, breathy noises somehow make their way past the confines of their walls. It suddenly reminded him of Jongin and Kyungsoo and the several times he and Baekhyun had bore witness to the same noises and sounds. 

While it doesn’t pain him as much as it did before to think about home and his family, Jimin feels a small sense of longing surround his heart. But unlike the several other times, the feeling doesn’t build up in his chest until he felt incredibly heavy and depressed. 

When he did make it downstairs and Taehyung and Jungkook see him, their game of tag came to an abrupt end as they both look to Jimin with knowing looks on their faces. Jimin shrugged and raised an eyebrow.

“How was your night?” Jungkook was the first to question him with a teasing lilt to his voice as he sank onto the sofa. 

“It was… fine, I guess,” Jimin muttered, bringing his hand up to cover the red rapidly rising on his cheeks. 

“Fine? You were quite loud for it to just be ‘fine,’” Jungkook continued to tease, earning him a quick flick to the back of the head from Taehyung. Jimin really hid his face this time. How embarrassing. 

“I told you not to go snooping about around their door last night,” Taehyung scolded. Jungkook rolled his eyes and waved the older off. 

“All I did was walk by and just  _ happened  _ to hear it,” Jungkook huffed childishly yet in the most entitled way possible. Again, only someone like Jungkook could pull off an expression and tone like that. And while Jimin was sure that sex wasn’t a sensitive topic for the two of them, considering the circumstances they were in, but for Jimin, it was. It meant a whole lot for some reason. He vaguely wondered if Yoongi felt the same.

In the midst of his mortification, Jimin remembered that  he has to get home and thoroughly search through the pictures he’d taken in Jae-Wook’s apartment. And possibly even get Baekhyun and Jongin to search through the deceased man’s home themselves. But to make that conclusion, he needed to do his job before anyone-- someone like Hoseok-- intercepted his plans and he got caught.

Yeah, his mind was still hazy from the post sex bliss but he’d just have to work through it. There was no time for him to enjoy this. He had a job to do.

Even if his initial drive to complete the mission was steadily dwindling, he still would do it… 

Jimin gingerly asked Taehyung and Jungkook if they would drive him home, giving the same excuse that he would like to collect his thoughts in the comfort of his little condo. 

“I’m gonna drive though,” Jungkook said.

“You drive like a fucking maniac,” Taehyung grimaced, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. “As much as I hate driving in the morning, I’d be damned if I die because you swerved off of the road.” 

Jimin couldn’t help but silently agree. 

  
  
  
  
  


It took a while before Jungkook and Taehyung actually drove away, leaving Jimin alone in his little house. He didn’t waste any time, immediately going to his office. He gathered his phone given to him by Namjoon and his personal computer and placed them all next to his multi-monitored computer. Setting up his technology to truly put his mind to work. This was his chance to truly make progress.

Sitting in his cushioned chair, Jimin picked up his cell phone first. Quickly uploading the photos onto his computer monitors. Getting the photographs off of this phone as quick as possible was significant because  _ anyone  _ could hack this phone. No doubt that it even had a tracker in it too. 

Jimin deleted the pictures from the phone and expanded the four photographs across the three computer monitors when the uploading was complete. With his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he zoomed in and examined every detail with precision so that he missed nothing. 

The first picture was two people shaking hands. Almost like they were closing a deal or making an agreement. The picture was so clear that Jimin was sure that the pictures were taken as something of proof that the agreements had actually taken place. But the pictures could also be some form of visual reassurement that the agreement was done and solidified.

He looked at the tattoos of the different men specifically. They were from two different gangs. He was sure that these gangs were once rivals. He’s seen them on the news several times for being responsible for the spontaneous shoot outs that usually ended in a massacre of sorts of a lot of innocent people caught in the crossfire. It was hard to believe that these petty street gangs had put all of that aside… for no reason at all. 

The only time enemies ever put their differences aside was when they had a common enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. That’s how the saying went, right?

Jimin clicked onto the next photograph. Jae-Wook was in this picture. He was simply sitting in a chair while signing some paper. The words on the paper were too blurry for Jimin to know what exactly was written but he knew that Jae-Wook was signing his name at the bottom of that paper. The surroundings were something of an old, abandoned house. Peeling white paint of the walls and an old rickety looking staircase in the back too. Maybe it was where the two gangs did business. 

It wouldn’t be a bad choice if it was. In that side of town, this house could be one of hundreds because they all looked the same. 

Jimin goes through the other two pictures with just as much precision and attention to detail. Enough to come to the final conclusion that these street gangs have formed some syndicate of their own. The reasoning was still unknown but Jae-Wook had a large role to play in this arrangement. 

He could also safely say that--judging solely on the contents of the photographs-- the Lotus Syndicate wasn’t involved in any way at all. That was a relief. 

Thinking of the Lotus Syndicate, Jimin redirected his attention to his personal laptop, pushing the keyboard to the multi-monitor computer aside. He needed to quickly check the encrypted message that his brothers should have sent by now. It could have more information that he was missing. 

Fortunately, with a few moves and opening of a few files and links, Jimin had uncovered that he was indeed sent a message. It wave of relief washed over him as he decoded the encrypted code that Minseok configured just for situations like these. 

**_Jimin,_ **

**_We’re all glad to hear that you are doing fine over there. We hope that you continue to do well despite the fact that it may be hard right now. As for the outside threats directed at the 7 Point Syndicate, we can assure you that we have nothing to do with them. We have not engaged in any direct interactions with them either. However, we also are experiencing some external threats. We need you to figure out if this is due to the 7 Point Syndicate leading these attacks on our empire based off of false assumptions that we are the ones who are sabotaging them. Reply as quickly as possible. We’ll be waiting and looking forward to your response._ **

**_Baekhyun and Jongin._ **

Jimin reread the letter a few times with furrowed eyebrows and his thumb loosely grazing the lining of his teeth as he thought. Thought about whether or not they’d anything about the Lotus Syndicate from anyone. But he hadn’t. 

Except from Yoongi but that was just assumptions. No empire just went off of assumptions. That was why Jimin was here. The small thought of Yoongi invaded Jimin’s senses unknowingly for a few moments. A memory of last night materializing in the forefront of his mind before Jimin quickly pushed them away. Another sudden thought occupying the space in his mind. 

The possibility that there’s a connection between all of this information was incredibly daunting and a bit scary. The possibility of there actually being an unknown, third player to their game of chess was even more frightening. 

There was only two sides of a chess board--not three or four-- for a reason. The game only worked when there was two sides. Another party, only threw off the power balance that was created for the stability of the game. For a long time, this game hadn’t been about winning, it was about longevity. 

It seemed it was all about to change now. Jimin looked back at his computer monitors. Glancing between all four pictures, Jimin sighed. 

  
  
  
  
  


Minseok was experienced in a lot of fields and areas due to his love of knowledge and perfecting skills. With nothing better to do with his time other than work for the Lotus Syndicate and watch television in his unnecessarily large apartment, Minseok had a very long list of expertise that he was actually quite proud of if he was being honest. 

But on that very long list of experience, sexual experience would have to be at the very, very bottom. Now, he was never really ashamed that he was a virgin. He truly had no interest in losing his virginity or even really establishing a connection with anyone to even go that far. Minseok didn’t like people or bonds enough to do that. 

Masturbation wasn’t even something that Minseok did regularly because he truly didn’t get any pleasure from that either. Sexual pleasure just never mattered to him and that didn’t bother him in the slightest bit. 

That was until Jongdae. Ever since he’d seen the man during the line up, he was absolutely taken by how someone could look so handsome yet be so skilled at the same time. Almost like both were natural for Jongdae. It was rare that you got both when it came to working in this empire. Either one was hard on the eyes but incredibly skilled or vice versa. Minseok considered himself skilled but not so much good looking. He was cute at most. 

And as Jongdae spent more time under Minseok’s wing, the latter’s desire for the new recruit was growing. 

However, Minseok was always under the impression that his desire was just a want for companionship and a friend. Believing that the feeling under his skin was nothing more than an itch for someone to be platonically close to. 

So Minseok thought it would be nice to invite Jongdae to his lonely but high end apartment to join him in watching a few movies as a break from all of the work. To put it simply, Minseok was trying his best to create a bond after so many years of avoiding them. 

It had started off well and Minseok was proud of his efforts, until the friendly atmosphere shifted to something that caused Minseok to not be able to breathe. While watching the movie--practically cuddling with Jongdae on his couch-- Minseok couldn’t help but notice how fit Jongdae was. The arm resting around his waist was so lean and muscular. Minseok moved around purposefully just so he could feel the way his muscles moved when Jongdae would secure his arm around his waist when he settled down again.

Suddenly feeling emboldened, Minseok rested his head on Jongdae’s shoulder and breathlessly whispered how nice his arm felt around him. He hadn’t meant for it to sound so creepy but as soon as the words left his mouth, Minseok decided that it most definitely sounded creepy. He was so ready to apologize but Jongdae had so readily kissed him. 

Minseok always hated the idea of kissing someone but the slow, rough slide of Jongdae’s tongue against his was enough to change his mind for now. He really liked kissing Jongdae. The idea of kissing anyone else was repulsive to him.

Jongdae’s strong hand in his hair and his other hand so firmly grasping at the skin of his thigh and kneading the fat there. 

“You’re so  _ strong _ ,” Minseok mewled when Jongdae forcefully pulled Minseok so he was straddling him. Minseok ran his hand down Jongdae’s arms, moaning at the feeling of taut muscles and contours under his fingertips. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Jongdae chuckled huskily, nipping at his collarbone. “And sensitive. You’d think you’ve never been touched before the way you’re reacting to everything.” To emphasize his point, Jongdae ran his tongue up the side of his neck while holding tightly onto his hips to keep the man on top of him from moving too much. Jongdae had come to realize that Minseok really liked being restricted and any type of rough treatment.

For a split second, every muscle in Minseok’s body locked at the new sensation before his body relaxed completely and he let his head fall to rest against Jongdae’s forehead. “Please…” 

“See? You’re so pretty,” Jongdae marveled running his hands up to scratch against Minseok’s back. “So sexy and beautiful.” Minseok was shaking at all of the subtle displays of dominance. The scratching, the pulling of his hair, the grasping of his skin that if they were just a little harder would definitely leave bruises. He loved it all. Even if it was a bit too much for his inexperienced senses and nerves, every part of himself was begging for more.

“Manhandle me,” Minseok begged breathlessly, threaded his hair through the hair on the nape of the man’s neck as he brushed their lips together softly. “I love it.” 

“You’re shaking,” Jongdae laughed lowly. “When was the last time you’ve done this?” When Minseok only moaned instead of giving a clear answer, Jongdae hooked his hands under Minseok’s knees, grip firm, and moved to stand from the couch. Minseok locked his arms around Jongdae’s neck, gasping at the feeling of the other’s erection pressing against his own as Jongdae lowered the both of them to the floor. 

As soon as Minseok’s back pressed against the plush black carpet of the living room floor, Jongdae grasped Minseok’s jaw pressing his index finger and thumb into either side of his face to force him to part his lips. Minseok’s eyes rolled as he choked out a moan. 

“When was your last time?” Jongdae questioned again in a whisper, biting at Minseok’s bottom lip. 

“I-I… Never…” Minseok admitted, too hazy and lost to come up with an appropriate lie even if he wanted to. “I’ve never done this before.” 

Jongdae snorted, taking his hand from Minseok’s jaw and taking his wrists and pinning them to the floor. Minseok resisted a little just to see how trapped he was under Jongdae’s strength, moaning and whimpering when there was no give at all. God, Jongdae was so strong. 

“I don’t believe you. How could someone, man or woman, not have their way with you by now,” Jongdae said against his lips. Minseok arched, trying to kiss Jongdae again, but the man on top of him pulled back, smirking at his eagerness. 

“I never was interested in having sex. Until this. I want you so bad.” Minseok whined, voice higher than he’s ever heard it before. Usually he’d be embarrassed and mortified at being so overtly submissive but instead he was squirming and trying to maneuver his hips enough to get the slightest bit of contact. 

“Since you’ve never done this before, I’ll be nice,” Jongdae decided. Minseok was ready to moan his thanks and gratefulness but Jongdae claimed his lips before he could. Right there, in the middle of Minseok’s living room floor, the two made out, removing each other’s clothes in a lust-filled frenzy. Jongdae kept his promise to be nice-- never depriving Minseok of what he begged for-- but definitely wasn’t gentle in the slightest as he sucked hickies onto his neck and chest while manhandled in all of the right ways.

Even without his dick being touched directly, only rubbing dirtily against Jongdae’s prominent abs that he had taken time to run his tongue over when they’d first gotten undressed, Minseok was so close to bursting. Especially when Jongdae’s cock grounded against his. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” Jongdae whispered. “Do you have lube, baby?”

“N-No,” Minseok breathed, hoping more than anything that there was some alternative. The thought of being held down, claimed, and made to be Jongdae’s was perfect in Minseok’s mind. 

“That’s too bad,” Jongdae said, kissing at one of Minseok’s nipples. “We’ll just have to wait until next time, yeah?”

“Yes. Next time. Please, next time,” Minseok mewled and sighed, splaying his hands out on Jongdae’s ass to roll his hips against his own. The idea of there being a next time was enough to have Minseok crying out and his mind burning out all at the same time. 

“Touch me. I wanna come,” Minseok whined, letting his legs fall open. And since Jongdae was so generous, he wasted no time in wrapping his hand firmly around the base of Minseok’s hard, leaking cock and stroking. From bottom to top, rolling his thumb against the tip pulling a loud and drawn out moan from Minseok’s pretty, plump lips.

“Don’t you dare- Don’t stop,” Minseok demanded, back arching, tears welling in his eyes as his orgasm quickly twisted in his gut. Everything became just that much more intense when he felt the head of Jongdae’s cock press against his hole. 

“Ah! F-Fuck… Fuck me,” Minseok mewled. He’d give anything to have Jongdae inside him right now.

“As much as I want to,” Jongdae angled his hips so he could press the tip against his fluttering entrance again. “I can’t. I don’t wanna hurt you too bad.” Minseok whined in disappointment.

Jongdae sat back on his heels and moved his wrist even quicker in order to distract Minseok from the burning want, marveling at the way Minseok’s muscles intermittently clenched, unclenched, and spasmed as he did so.

“Come for me, Minseok. I wanna see you fall apart,” Jongdae breathed. “You can do it for me.”

Focusing solely on the feeling of Jongdae and only Jongdae, Minseok sobbed harder. “Too much,” Minseok cried, the intense feeling in his abdomen so tight that it almost hurt. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that Jongdae was kissing down his body until there was a wet heat engulfing his tip. Eyes clenched shut, Minseok was simply surprised with how hard his orgasm had hit him as pleasure raked through him until he was completely deprived of all energy. 

“So pretty, Minseok,” Jongdae said, moving back up Minseok’s body to lazily kiss him again. His hard on still prominent as it pressed against Minseok’s thigh. 

“Wanna… Want you to fuck my mouth,” Minseok said, scrambling to get Jongdae to sit up. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jongdae chuckled, moving Minseok’s sweat soaked bangs out of his face. 

“Be gentle then. Just wanna feel you fuck my face,” Minseok said, his limbs still limp from fatigue and some still numb as he laid there, waiting for Jongdae to manhandle him into the position he wanted him to be in.

Jongdae still seemed hesitant until Minseok pouted, “Please, Dae. I want you to come on my face.” 

And that was how he ended up being manhandled and pulled until he was on his knees with Jongdae thrusting slowly yet firmly into his willing, pliant mouth. Minseok clutched at Jongdae’s thighs as Jongdae took a fist full of Minseok’s hair and slowly guided him up and down on his cock. Groaning everytime Minseok groaned when Jongdae thrusted into the wet heat of his mouth.

Jongdae’s cock hot and heavy on Minseok’s tongue and he couldn’t help but moan lowly every time Jongdae pushed into his mouth just a little deeper than the previous thrust. It was his first time doing something like this and was definitely an unfamiliar feeling but he loved it. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to truly take Jongdae in his throat completely, he brought his hand up to wrap around the rest of Jongdae’s cock, squeezing it experimentally earning a low groan from above him.

“I’m close, Seok,” Jongdae growled, the hand weaved in Minseok’s hair shaking a bit. At that, Minseok quickly moved, coughing a bit at the slight burn on his throat.

“My face. Come on my face,” Minseok sighed, his heart jumping in anticipation. He looked up at how ethereal Jongdae looked as he began stroking his cock at a pace that had Minseok hypnotized. He mouthed at the tip, whining as he scratches at his thighs in anticipation.

When Jongdae did finally come, releasing messily on Minseok’s cheeks and some on his forehead, Minseok couldn’t deny how dirty he felt. He loved it so much. Being someone else’s. Submitting to them. Having zero control at all. Only with Jongdae though. He would have hated this if it were anyone else. When he finished, Jongdae dropped to his knees and messily kissed Minseok. 

“I think we should clean you up,” Jongdae giggled, pressing several pecks to Minseok’s lips before pulling away to stand. Minseok chuckled and nodded in agreement. With Jongdae’s release on his face and his own release still on his chest and stomach, Minseok wanted nothing more than to take another shower. 

Minseok collapsed back onto the floor and distantly wondered how he ended up becoming so close to Jongdae. If he was getting too close. And even if he did get too close, would that truly be a problem? 

There was no way to answer those questions because his mind was still clouded and Jongdae was back with a bottle of water and a towel. “You know, I didn’t expect your apartment to be so clean, since your office is so fucking messy,” Jongdae said, gently running the towel over Minseok’s face.

“My work area is very disorganized, I admit, but where I live has to be organized for me to truly be able to relax,” Minseok hummed. Jongdae nodded in response and moved to clean Minseok’s lower body. Every once in awhile, his eyes would drift shut, his body wanting nothing more than to rest but Minseok wanted to stay and wait for Jongdae at least. 

“Seok?” Jongdae called once the both of them had settled back onto the sofa, naked and ready to drift into slumber. 

“Yeah,” Minseok said, sighing as Jongdae’s pressed and massaged the sore muscles in his upper thighs

“That picture… Who is that next to you?” Jongdae asked. Minseok opened his eyes a bit to follow Jongdae’s line of sight to see the framed picture of him and his brother he had propped up on his bookshelf in the corner. Him and his little brother that he missed more than anything. 

“My brother. His name was Hoseok.”

_ So they were brothers. _

Sensing the melancholy in his voice and simply out of sheer curiosity, Jongdae continued. “Did something happen to him? You said ‘was.’”

“He disappeared. Our parents had disappeared about a year earlier and then he disappeared too one day. I had no idea where he went or what could have possibly happen to him.”

“Have you ever tried to look for him?” 

Minseok was quiet for a moment before scoffing. Minseok usually wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, but the post-orgasm haze made him vulnerable so the answer just left his lips involuntarily. “I don’t wanna risk finding out that my little brother is dead. That I couldn’t protect him.” Minseok cuddled into Jongdae’s side a little tighter, his eyes closing gracefully, savoring the feeling of Jongdae still pressing circles into his hips now. 

As Minseok drifted into a peaceful sleep, Jongdae stayed awake, absentmindedly watching the credits of the movie they hadn’t even watched begin to roll. 

He wondered if Hoseok worried about Minseok too, and as someone who considered himself close to Hoseok, how could he have missed this fact. 

  
  
  
  
  


“I”m going out for my lunch break,” Youngjae announced, peeking his head inside Jaebum’s office. Raising his head from computer screen, Jaebum gave him that stupid sympathetic smile that Youngjae was getting really tired of seeing. He wanted Jaebum to treat him like the man he was and not a child. Even if he was a broken, emotionally drained man, he was still a man that could handle himself without all of the sympathy.

“Okay. Don’t forget we have a unit meeting after the break,” Jaebum reminded. 

“I wouldn’t forget something so important,” Youngjae reassured. Before Youngjae could shut his office door again, Jaebum called out for him. 

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much,” he said. And even from the entire other side of Jaebum’s office, Youngjae could see that passion in his eyes. He meant it. He meant it with his entire heart and… it made Youngjae want to break down right there. 

With his life in pieces, he needed to hear that. “I love you too.” Sharing another smile between the two--this time it wasn’t out of pity-- Youngjae fully shut the door this time and was rushing out of the building to get to his car. 

When he’d gotten into the car and started the ignition, he pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the address that had arrived in a timed message on his personal laptop, just like the note said it would. The address was definitely in central Seoul so Youngjae didn’t have to go that far. 

With a bit of guilt hanging in the empty spaces of his heart, Youngjae absentmindedly drove to the given address. He arrived at a cafe right across the street from the Lucky 7 Casino which was very well known to be owned by the 7 Point Syndicate. He vaguely wondered if they owned this cafe too and if that note was sent by someone in the 7 Point Syndicate.

What the hell was he doing… Youngjae couldn’t help but be utterly confused about why he was listening to this stupid message. Why he hadn’t told Jaebum about this as soon as the message arrived on his computer. This could be very well be a trap, and with that came the possibility that he might not leave this alive. 

But in all honesty, he hoped that he didn’t. He hoped that whoever the hell this was would do him the favor of putting an end to his misery. That’s why he had eaten that cake that had been mysteriously left in his home that he’d stored in the fridge. Hoping and praying that there would be poison or something mixed into the cake to just… kill him. 

He was utterly disappointed when four days later, here he was, still alive and breathing. 

Parking his car in the parking lot behind the cafe, Youngjae strolled into the cafe as if he belonged there. He’d done undercover missions enough to know how to look like he belonged. For now, he was simply a cop on his lunch break stopping for a coffee. 

Ordering a large iced americano from the sweet, smiling woman behind the counter, Youngjae looked around for whoever looked like they could possibly be responsible. It didn’t take long before his gaze fell upon a familiar face. 

Namjoon’s lover? Seokjin? 

The man was sitting in a booth in the corner with a pleasant smile on his face as he tapped away at his phone, completely oblivious to his prescence. Youngjae stared for a second, completely bewildered by the entire situation. If Seokjin was here… then others were probably here too. 

“Your iced americano, sir,” the smiling woman returned sliding it across the counter. 

“T-Thanks…” Youngjae stuttered, wondering if this woman could be one of their spies too. If she held a gun too. She could easily and swiftly pull out a gun and lodge a bullet in his face right now. 

What a nice thought… 

Returning the woman’s smile, Youngjae turned and slowly walked over to the booth. When he cleared his throat, Seokjin looked up with soft eyes, smiling as if he and Youngjae were actually having a simple coffee date. 

“Choi Youngjae?” Seokjin questioned.

“Yeah,” Youngjae muttered. 

“Sit down then. Don’t look so tense,” Seokjin chuckled sweetly. He turned off his phone and placed it face down on the table while Youngjae moved to sit across from Seokjin. 

“Why did you call me here? Did you come into my apartment and leave that note?” Youngjae asked directly. Not even wanting to even look at his drink, even when Seokjin amicably sipped at his own mug. 

“Technically,  _ I _ didn’t come into your apartment because I was at my birthday party. I just thought it would be nice to give you a piece of my birthday cake as an apology for your loss-”

“Yeah, I read that in the fucking note,” Youngjae scoffed. Seokjin’s smile fell for a second and was replaced with a temporary glare when Youngjae interrupted him so rudely. Youngjae instantly remembered that he needed to be careful. He had no back up and Jaebum had no idea where he was. Seokjin was one of the potential leaders of the 7 Point Syndicate. He was just a rookie cop. 

When Youngjae opened his mouth to say something, he heard his father’s name being spoken on the small television hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the cafe. His father’s corruption was all over the news now. What a horrible reminder. 

“Choi Jae-Wook, a well loved cop in the city goes missing days after his honorary ceremony was postponed. It is said that evidence of corruption for the past fifteen years have been found, even linking Officer Choi to the mafia and other street gangs. Jae-Wook’s whereabouts are unknown, but it is believed that he his on the run or already made it out of the country.” 

Youngjae closed his eyes for a second at having to hear that. He could truly laugh right now. His father wasn’t on the run. He was  _ dead.  _

“Anyway,” Seokjin began, purposefully talking over the news reporter as his delicate smile returned. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?” 

Seokjin leaned in a bit further and lowered his voice, face sill soft and delicate, but his voice hard and determined. “I need you to get your boyfriend to lower the law enforcement defences around a certain import/export location on the very far outskirts of Seoul.” 

Youngjae’s eyes widened. He couldn’t… He couldn’t participate in illegal activity like this. “For what? I won’t be apart of-”

“I need to stop the exportation of hundreds of kids that are being shipped across the borders to be sold into sex slavery,” Seokjin finished, an urgent celerity to his words. “I have no time for negotiation, this is an order.”

“You want to… sabotage the profit of your own empire?” Youngjae titled his head to the side just a bit. “Because as far as the Lotus Syndicate is concerned, they don’t engage in sex slavery at all.”

“It’s not sabotage,” Seokjin shrugged nonchalantly as he shook his head. “Sex slavery doesn’t even count for five percent of our profit.” 

Not believing it entirely, Youngjae continued to stare at Seokjin. Giving him a look he’d only used once during a really long interrogation with a couple who had kidnapped a child. He’d learned it from Mark and Jinyoung. 

Surprisingly, Jin gave in, gaze redirecting towards the door for a second as he sighed. “Look, I can’t just stand by while kids are being sold into sex slavery just like I was when I was only fucking nine. I’m all too familiar with sex slavery and I can’t let this happen any longer. I will stop the exportation and get them all in contact with someone to get them back home with their families. I swear, Youngjae. If you help me with this, you won’t regret it. I can get you whatever you like.”

Youngjae was quiet. 

“Are you in?”

“...Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reallyyyy hope you guys like this chapter! It was too fun to write. Originally Minseok and Jongdae weren't gonna get a smut scene but a friend of mine was like "Minseok needs to get some because he's just so lonely." Lol, so I let Minseok get some. As always, let's all send love for our Youngjae.   
> Love you! 
> 
> Mochi


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